


Anger Management

by SpicyChestnut



Series: Fade to Black [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Acting Out, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergence, Cunnilingus, Danceman!Link, Dancing, Drinking, Drinking Games, Drunk Sex, Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Father and daughter, Hand Jobs, Humor, Memory 12, Never Have I Ever, Plot With Porn?, Porn With Plot, Romance, Smut, zelink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-07 08:37:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyChestnut/pseuds/SpicyChestnut
Summary: In the morning, she felt despair; in the afternoon, frustration; and now, as night falls, she feels angry—furious and spiteful over all the criticism and cruelty she had been subject to. Screw her father and the court; she was done worrying over her failure to live up to expectations. Tonight, she would revel in that failure—and she would have the time of her life doing it. BoTW ZeLink. Tag to memory #12.





	1. Admonition

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo, another installment in the Fade to Black series! This little side-fic was my stress-relief project of the last few weeks. I think I'll be publishing a chapter a day, with 8 chapters in total. See you tomorrow!

Zelda walked along the stone bridge between her study and her chambers, Link’s heavier footfalls sounding behind her as she gazed with satisfaction out at the Guardian experiments taking place on the grounds below. The Sheikah researchers were testing independent movement today. The ancient scrolls they’d discovered buried along with the machines had offered some instruction, but so far it had been largely trial and error. After months of work, they were just beginning to reach a point of relative understanding. As the clanging and clinking of one of the guardians echoed up to her ears, she excitedly hurried towards the edge, leaning out over the parapet.

One of the Guardians was moving, following the Sheikah researcher in accordance with its programmed instructions. She smiled, feeling hope rise tenuously within her. It eased just a little of the pressure to know that their success wouldn’t be solely on her shoulders—that the incredible technology of their ancient ancestors would provide that much more peace of mind against the coming trials.

“Incredible… we’re at a point now where we can actually control them. At the current rate, we’ll soon know all we need to know about the Guardians and the Divine Beasts!”

She turned to Link with an enthusiastic smile. He stood behind her, gaze fixed to the grounds below as he too observed the experiments. Though she knew unlocking her sealing power was still vital, she couldn’t help but voice some of her relief, unable to repress her smile.

“And should Ganon ever show itself again, we’ll be well positioned to defend ourselves.” 

Link glanced at her, smiling as well; but the peace was interrupted by a voice echoing from behind her.

“What are you doing out here Zelda?

Her blood ran cold, and she turned anxiously towards the reprimanding voice, her hand instinctively raising to cover her heart. Her father stood before her chamber doors, walking slowly towards her with a frown on his face. Her heart constricted with fear and shame; she knew that tone of voice—had heard it countless times over the past several years. He was not pleased.

As the King neared, she heard Link drop to the ground in a show of fealty; however, she forced her shoulders back and stood straighter, lowering her hand to her side. She would not show fear—she would now cow; she had done nothing wrong.

“I…” her voice was weak and so she paused, hands clenching into fists as she gathered her strength to speak with the regal authority she had been born and bred to show. “I was assessing the results of the experiment with the Guardians.” She moved away from the parapet, turning to face her father fully. “These pieces of ancient technology could be quite useful in the fight against the—“

“I know that.” His voice was calm—firm and authoritative, yet an annoyance ran beneath the surface, She tried not flinch. “They are essential to Hyrule’s future and our research demands we keep a close eye on them. However…” His tone began to shift, and she sensed what little patience he had exhibited would soon be gone. “As the Princess you currently have a crucial unfulfilled responsibility to your kingdom.”

She let out a small, pained breath.

“Let me ask you once more… when will you stop treating this as some sort of childish game?”

Despite knowing it was coming, his words hit her like a slap in the face. Any hope or encouragement or relief she had felt watching the Guardian experiments—any sense that maybe the world wasn’t quite so fully on her shoulders—dissipated like smoke on the wind.

The full weight of her failure hung heavily upon her shoulders once more.

She looked down, feeling shame well within her; yet a small part of her stubborn spirit remained. She had to at least try to defend herself, to make him understand. She lifted her head and took a step forward, entreating him to patience—to empathy. Despite the pressure and the urgency he placed upon her, he was still her father… somewhere, deep inside.

“I’m doing everything I can.” She forced herself to speak with a strength she did not feel, her fingernails digging crescents into her palm as she did so. “I’ll have you know that I just recently returned from the Spring of Courage where I offered every ounce of my prayers to the Goddess—”

“And now you are here wasting your time.” His voice was cutting, impatient and uninterested in her excuses. This time she did flinch. “You need to be dedicating every moment you have to your training! You must be single-minded in unlocking the power that will seal Calamity Ganon away.”

“I already am!” She was desperate, her fear of failure—of the calamity—returned to her at his urgency, his insistence. What more could she do? She had dedicated her whole life to unlocking her sealing power, to no avail! Could she not at least be given a chance to help her kingdom in some less futile way? Could she not at least be useful? She felt her eyes mist, but blinked it away. She would not show weakness. “Don’t you see—there’s nothing more I can do! My hope… My hope is that you… That you’ll allow me to contribute here in whatever way I can—”

“No more excuses, Zelda!” His voice had risen several octaves, and she felt the last of her will to fight drain away. “Stop running away from your duty. As the King I forbid you from having anything to do with these machines from this moment on, and command you to focus on your training.”

He then turned from her, moving towards the parapets and gazing out over the grounds. She thought she might feel relief at the absence of his critical gaze, but instead felt only rejection. “Do you know how the gossip mongers refer to you?” he asked, voice suddenly soft. She held her tongue—she did not trust herself to speak.

“They are out there at this moment, whispering amongst themselves… that you are the heir to a throne of nothing… nothing but failure.” Another pained breath escaped her, and she swallowed down the lump in her throat. Several moments of silence stretched on, and he gazed with faraway eyes out beyond the castle. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, full of an unspoken weight she felt only too keenly. “It is woven into your destiny that you prove them wrong. Do you understand?”

It took every last ounce of strength she had left to answer him; and when she did, her voice was hoarse and barely audible. “Yes. I understand.” She held her hands still, clasped before her to keep them from shaking, and stared down at the stonework of the bridge, unable to look at him. Without a word he turned and walked slowly away, past her guards and through her chamber door, retreating back into the castle.

She did not speak for several moments, merely stood still as she forced the torrent of emotions to calm. Taking several deep breaths, she schooled her expression and walked forward slowly, demurely, heading through her chamber doors and down the spiral staircase. She moved silently towards her wardrobe and once Link had reached the bottom of the stairs she spoke softly, not turning from her task.

“Step outside, please, Link. I wish to prepare for prayer.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she gathered her dress and ceremonial jewelry, but did not turn to him, and did not speak further. After several moments she heard the dull thump of her chamber door—evidence that Link had finally stepped out into the hall—and only then, did she allow herself to cry.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Two hours later she knelt in the lush grasses before the castle shrine, Link’s back to her as she prayed; but her efforts were half-hearted. Still, she kept her hands clasped before her, head bowed and eyes closed as she recited her devotionals in her head. At least her father would be pleased by how her precious time was bing spent. Maybe.

Yet as she reached her tenth verse, the words slowed to a stop, and she released a frustrated breath. What was the point? She had been here for an hour already, going through the same motions she had a thousand times before; but what good would praying here do if her attempts at the holy Spring of Courage had failed? Every time she had ever bothered to put forth any true effort she had failed. Half-hearted effort would surely yield nothing.

She felt angry tears well in her closed eyes. It wasn’t fair…

What more could she possibly do? She felt her blood boil as her father’s words repeated themselves in her head, only just resisting the urge to rip up the soft grasses. One could not simply transmute lead into gold—and neither could she simply unlock her sealing power. If she could, she would have by now. Her father didn’t understand. Nobody understood. Everyone acted as though she weren’t trying—as though there was some obvious solution she simply hadn’t bothered to attempt.

She took a steadying breath. Her anger was getting the better of her. Lifting her head, she briefly recited her final prayer aloud, then turned towards the steps where Link stood, waiting. Glancing out beyond the castle moat, she observed the sun on its descent towards the mountains. Yes, it was best she finish up early. Dinner wasn’t far off.

She resisted an angry grumble as she walked forward as calmly as she could, heading for the door which led back to the interior of the castle.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

“Announcing her highness, Princess Zelda.”

She entered the dining hall with her head down, making a quick beeline for her seat and ignoring the courtiers who stood upon her entrance. Link parted from her halfway to the table, taking his place beside the other royal guards at the back of the room.

“You are late, Zelda,” said her father as she settled into her seat, neatly tucking her royal gown under her as a servant pushed in her chair. The long table was already full, the courtiers seated and daintily cutting up their meals; a few, however, had paused and were staring down their noses at her. She avoided their gazes, keeping her hands clasped in her lap as she answered her father.

“Please pardon my lateness,” she offered quietly, “I spent the afternoon in prayer and lost track of time.” Truthfully, she had been late as she’d needed a long walk through the castle gardens to cool her temper; but she rather thought he’d prefer the answer she gave him.

He did not respond, merely nodded at her and offered a faint grunt. He returned his attention to his plate, and so she turned her attention to hers for the first time. Inwardly, she sighed. Steak again… how she tired of her father’s obsession with meats. The royal physician had long ago warned against such a protein-rich diet as the one he preferred, citing fears for the health of his heart. He had ignored the man, of course.

But, how dare she spend an afternoon observing guardian experiments she’d helped to research? How dare she feel anything other than the weight of her failure? She felt her hands clench into fists in her lap. The unfairness of it all…!

It seemed her walk through the gardens hadn’t done quite as much to quell her temper as she’d hoped.

Taking a breath to ease the infuriated shaking of her hands, she delicately took hold of her utensils and cut into the steak without much interest. She enjoyed when Link cooked for her during their travels, and he often cooked meat, but his dishes were a mixture of meats, vegetables and grains. The combination made for an enticing mixture of flavors and textures. Looking down at the large slab of steak, however, with a spiral cut of carrot as mere decoration… she stifled a grimace. It seemed she’d be ordering a meal be sent up to her chambers again tonight.

As she brought a small cut of meat to her lips, she heard the first mealtime whispers. She’d long ago grown accustomed to dinnertime gossip among the courtiers, but the words she heard momentarily stilled her hand as it brought her fork to her mouth.

“…was caught lounging in her chambers this afternoon. No wonder she hasn’t unlocked her power, she’s not even trying…”

“I heard the King even had to command her to focus on her training. Can you believe that? The destruction of the Kingdom isn’t even enough to spur her to act!”

“…ungrateful and spoiled; she hardly cares a whit.”

Zelda forced the food into her mouth just so she could hide her angry grimace with chewing. Though she normally bore such whispers with more poise, she was still smarting from her father’s rebuke earlier in the day, and their words caused her to bristle with renewed anger. They would dare to criticize her upon her return from journeying halfway across the kingdom for the very purposes of her training, while they sat here in their luxury and finery? They who lived on petty gossip as though it were sustenance and had never bore any serious responsibility or endured any such punishment as she had?

She stared hard at her plate as she forced herself to chew her food, though by now it tasted rather like cardboard. She swallowed, forcing the food past the lump in her throat, then closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. She needed to calm down. Feeling her hands steady, even if her anger remained ever-present, she picked her utensils back up and resumed her facade of eating. However, she’d barely managed another bite before more whispers reached her ears.

“I heard she’s been spending all her time fawning over her knight instead of training. We’ve all seen the way she stares at him—how she clings to him…”

“Well I heard she’s been fooling around with him. She’s a harlot, just like that Gerudo woman, mark my words…”

Her eyes nearly bulged as the barely-audible words reached her. She—a harlot?! …What?! How could—how did—! She had dedicated the entirety of her life to this goddess-forsaken task! She didn’t even have time for such things even if she desired them!

She only just managed to unobtrusively set down her knife and fork, the urge to throw them across the room nearly overtaking her good sense. She once more found herself staring at her plate, except now she was seeing red.

How DARE they!

Perhaps, though, their words stung all the more because in some small way, they were right; though she knew she’d never be granted such an opportunity, nor would she ever seek such an opportunity, a small part of her did want those kinds of scandalous things… and with one person in particular—the very person they suspected she wanted those things with. The small sliver of truth behind their words, however, only added fuel to the fire.

She dared not look up for fear of letting her fury be known to the courtiers, or worse, her father. She needed to leave; her thinly-held composure couldn’t bear another minute of this.

She chanced the briefest of glances to where Link stood along the wall with the rest of the guard. She was thankful, at least, that he was too far away to hear. Folding her napkin neatly and placing it beside her plate she carefully turned her head towards her father, speaking with as much calm as she could muster.

“Father, I am afraid I must excuse myself, I’m not feeling quite well. I shall be in my chambers for the remainder of the evening.”

Then, before he could voice objection, she pushed out her chair and made a slow but steady beeline for the door; she didn’t want too look too eager to leave. Link followed after her, and once they made it into the privacy of the hall she straightened, walking with hasty strides in the direction of her chambers. She could once more feel Link’s eyes on her but she said nothing, her thoughts still swimming with the courtiers whispers words.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

“Raagh!” she threw the book across the room, face contorted into a snarl as the front cover of her book of devotionals ripped at the binding upon hitting the stone mantle of her fireplace.

Her chest was heaving and her shoulders shaking as the day’s insults washed over. She was intensely glad for having dismissed Link to his chambers early for the night, as an anger like she’d never known coursed through her; she felt it practically pouring from her ears. First her father’s scolding, then the fruitless effort of her prayers, and now the courtiers gossip. She could get no understanding, no sympathy for her desperate struggles! She picked up another tome, this one a history of the Goddess Hylia, and chucked it into the fireplace itself where it landed on the burning logs and immediately caught fire.

‘Let it all burn,’ she thought bitterly as she turned to pace the length of her room, seething. Everyone, even her own father, was so intent—almost desired—to see her as nothing but a pathetic, childish failure, despite her constant efforts to show them otherwise… Did they so desire someone to despise?

It was as she paced, this thought running on repeat in her head, that she had a sudden epiphany, and slowed her steps until she stood stock still before the fire, vaguely watching as her book turned into a pile of ash. She had been furious that no one saw her efforts, that despite her sincerity and dedication to the task of unlocking her power—despite her commitment to molding herself into a good and caring future monarch—they could see nothing but her faults.

So… why keep trying? She would not give up trying to unlock her power, certainly—she was not so callous as to leave her Kingdom to the Calamity’s destruction; but why keep trying to uphold her image? Why keep trying to be mature and proper and thoughtful of the consequences of her actions? Why keep trying to be… good? At least In the eyes of her critics.

And it was as she thought this that a plan began to form in her mind. For this first time since her father’s scolding, she smiled; but it was a bitter, wicked smile. She was done being a Princess—done fighting against the disappointment of her father and the courtiers.

Tonight at least, she would—instead—simply be a seventeen year old girl.

And she would show them all see what true failure looked like.


	2. Sneaking Out

Zelda stared at herself in the mirror, admiring her reflection with satisfaction. She looked… unrecognizable. Though it had taken some work to find appropriate pieces in her wardrobe, she had managed to pull off a reasonable commoner outfit. She wore the only set of cotton petticoats she owned (all of hers were silk), a plain full-length short-sleeved off-white cotton dress—normally the slip under her formal riding gown; a navy blue corset—usually reserved for one of her more elaborate ball gowns, and a pair of simple brown leather boots.

She’d even gone so far as to die her hair. She was well known for both the length and color of it—it would be a dead give-away out in public. With all of the various plant and animal samples she’d collected out on her last field survey, she’d been able to concoct a rudimentary, temporary hair die. Now, instead of light blond, she was a dark brown—almost black. She’d pinned it into a small bun at the base of her skull, allowing a few strands to dangle freely, framing her face between delicate strands. She smiled at her reflection as she fiddled with her hair. Between the outfit and her dark strands, she looked to be a whole different person.

But that felt rather fitting. With what she was about to do, she didn’t want to be Zelda, or to even look like Zelda—she wanted to be someone else. This other, darker persona, this simple teenage girl, this was who she wanted to be tonight; not the crown Princess of Hyrule.

Turning from her mirror, she grabbed a simple leather belt she’d left hanging off the back of her chair and buckled it loosely around her waist. She then grabbed a coin purse filled with rupees and tied it to the belt. With a final satisfied glance at the mirror, she grabbed her dark, floor-length wool cloak and made for the spiral staircase.

Sneaking out would be tricky, but if her plotted route worked as she hoped, and so long as she was quiet and cautious, she would be on the outskirts of Castle Town within the hour. As she neared the top of the stairs she lowered herself to her hands and knees, crawling towards the door leading outside so as to avoid the windows. She couldn’t afford to have the guards outside in the watch towers notice her late night sojourn to her study, lest they become suspicious. As she reached the door she cracked it open, wriggling through the gap and shutting it behind her.

The air was cool but not cold, and the moon was but a sliver, much to her relief. She remained crouching, slowly making her way along the bridge in the shadow cast by the parapets. As she reached the door to her study she slowly pulled it open only enough for her to crawl through, then darted inside and closed it quickly behind her.

She breathed a quick sigh of relief, standing upright once again as she dusted off her knees. With purposeful strides she crossed the small space to her desk, grabbing a flameless Sheikah lantern and turning it on. Holding it aloft to better light her surroundings, she lifted the corner of the rug and began searching the wooden floorboards carefully for the telltale marker she’d first read about years ago.

There! Three small knots grouped together in a triangular pattern. Pressing her fingers against them, she felt them give, then gripped the indentations and pulled upwards. The trapdoor swung open immediately, gliding far more smoothly on its hinges than she had expected given the loud groaning sound it made. But, she supposed, the Sheikah Guardians and Divine Beasts had functioned flawlessly after thousands of years—it seemed only fitting a trapdoor installed by the ancient Sheikah would also age fairly well.

A small ladder was secured to the walls of the passage, extending downward into darkness. Quickly she lifted the rug and set it against the open trapdoor so that it would fall back into place once she closed the it. With careful steps she turned and lowered herself down the ladder. Grabbing hold of a metal ring on the underside of the panel she pulled, shutting the trap door behind her with a thump.

She grinned as she descended the ladder, finally landing on a stone floor and turning to face the sloping spiral passageway. She’d be out of the castle before the next guard shift, and none would be any the wiser.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Link had a sinking feeling that something was amiss. He didn’t know what—or why—but somehow he knew things weren’t right, and that his concerns centered on the Princess. He had contemplated speaking with the head of the castle guard, but what would he say? What evidence did he have besides a gut instinct?

She had been distraught all day, despite her good mood earlier in the morning. He knew why—he’d been there to witness her father’s harsh rebuke. She had withered under his criticism like a delicate Silent Princess in the Gerudo desert, and her beautiful smile had disappeared, replaced by a pained frown. Part of him had wanted to say something, then, to rise from his knees and defend her, to make her father understand just how hard she was trying despite the lack of results; but he was the KING—and it was not his place.

After, though she probably wished otherwise, when she sent him out to change for prayer he heard her crying beyond the door. He had leaned heavily against it as her sobs echoed in her chamber, his forehead pressed into the wood and his hand hovering just over the handle. Part of him had wanted to go to her, to offer her comfort and assure her of the worth he knew she must be doubting; but she had ordered him out—and it was not his place.

Though he knew prayer probably hadn’t helped her mood, their silent walk through the castle garden had seemed to lift her spirits, and briefly he had felt optimistic that the day might turn around for her; but then at dinner she departed early, making a hasty but silent retreat back to her chambers and once again distraught by something. He didn’t know what happened during the short time she’d been seated at the long dining table—nothing looked amiss from across the room at least; but he knew something had happened, and it had upset her greatly.

When they arrived at her chamber door, he’d been about to ask her if she wanted to talk about whatever happened when she stiffly dismissed him early for the night and shut the door boor behind her without a backward glance. And so, once more, he had found himself leaning heavily against it as an unnerving silence emanated from her chamber, his forehead pressed into the wood and his hand hovering just over the handle; but she had dismissed him for the night—and it was not his place.

He was getting rather tired of not having a place.

He had returned to his room as ordered, but rather than settle in for the night he found himself pacing the length of his room; and as he paced yet another circuit, he finally came to a decision. Protocol be damned—she wasn’t okay and he wasn’t going to pretend she was like the rest of the courtiers and councilman and nobles. He couldn’t just sit idly by and watch her tear herself to pieces. He reached for his cloak hanging off a chair near the door, forgetting he wore only his undershirt as he departed the room, closing the door behind him softly and heading down the hall.

He arrived at her chambers a little over two hours after he had departed, and though the hours was getting late it was likely she was still up. Glancing down the hall to check for any passing guards and spotting none, he steeled himself, knocking loudly on the door. He wasn’t entirely certain what he would say, but he knew he needed to just… see her. He waited—no response. He knocked again, this time calling after her as he did so.

“Princess? It’s Link…”

He let his words hang, and they were met only with silence. If she had been asleep, she surely would not have hesitated to throw on a dressing gown and chastise him for interrupting her rest. If she wasn’t answering… The sinking feeling in his gut was back, and he raised his hand to knock loudly once more.

“Princess? I’m coming in!”

He waited several seconds on the off chance she was changing (he tried not to picture that too vividly), before slowly opening the door and peering inside. The room was dark, with only the faintest moonlight filtering in through the windows to offer illumination. Yet despite the darkness, he could see a vague lump on the bed. He felt a momentary relief before his eyes narrowed as he struggled to make out the shape, feeling unease grip him. The lump in the bed was far too large to be the Princess. He had spent enough nights camping with her in the wild to know otherwise.

He entered the room silently, shutting the door softly behind him. Something was wrong. He made his way over to the bed, footfalls silent on the massive rug, and as he approached the four poster he realized what it was that was amiss. He’d been right to be suspicious; the Princess wasn’t here—it was simply a mass of pillows and clothes stuffed under the sheets. What the hell was going on?

With a rapidly beating heart, he rushed towards the spiral staircase, taking the steps two at a time as quietly as he could, suddenly regretting his choice to leave the Master Sword behind. When he reached the second floor, he noticed nothing out of place or out of the ordinary. Perhaps she was in her study? He moved towards the door, cracking it open and taking a cursory glance out at the bridge. His heard thudded to a halt at what he saw.

The Princess was shrouded in a dark cloak, only her face visible in the dim moonlight as she crouched in the shadows of the parapets near the door to her study. He quickly closed the door until it was open only a sliver, peering out with one eye. He was relieved to know she was unharmed, but what in the world was she doing?

With careful movements, she cracked the door to her study and slipped inside, closing it quickly behind her. Link didn’t wait to see if she re-emerged. Whatever she was doing, she clearly wanted it remain a secret, and that set off alarm bells in his head. He slipped out onto the bridge, shutting the door behind him as he snuck his way across to her study door, shrouded in the shadows. Once there, he pressed his ear against the wood, straining to hear any noise beyond. He heard nothing for several seconds, then suddenly he heard a loud groaning sound. Hinges? But there were no other doors in the room, and the windows were up far too high for her to reach…

Deciding to risk exposure, he quietly opened the study door a crack and peered in with one eye. That eye widened quickly with shock. The Princess held aloft a Sheikah lantern, her dark hood fallen back to reveal… black hair? And she was leaning, staring down into a hole in the floor. A trap door! There, in the center of her study, beneath the carpet was a dark passage, a wooden panel on hinges pulled open at an angle to the floor.

There was a trap door in her study?! Since when! When he’d been appointed her personal guard, he’d been given a thorough review of all secret passageway in and out of the castle by the head of the castle guard—standard procedure for those assigned to the safety of a member of the royal family. There had been no records of a secret passage in the Princess’ own study! He knew—he reviewed every blueprint the castle guard had! Hadn’t he?

The Princess turned her back to him, rearranging the rug before climbing down a ladder on the wall of the passageway’s interior, balancing the lantern in one hand. Once she was half-submerged in the darkness, she grabbed a metal ring on the underside of the trap door and yanked, pulling it and the rug back to the floor, sealing the passageway as though it were never there.

Link stared, dumbfounded, into the room. What the hell was going on?

Snapping out of his stupor, Link quickly entered the study and shut the door behind him. Whatever she was doing, he was about to find out. Lifting the rug back, he ran both hands over the floor, searching for some evidence of the passageway door. He vaguely felt what could be the edges of the trapdoor, but it was several more moments before he found what he was looking for. As his fingers grazed over a cluster of knots in the wood, he felt one of give way to the pressure of his fingertips. Pausing, he pushed on it again, then the ones around it, feeling all three give under the pressure of his hands. Sticking a finger on each, he pushed down, pressing his fingers against the wood and pulling up. That did the trick.

The panel swung up and he pulled it open slowly so as to avoid the squeaking of the hinges. He wouldn’t take a lantern—it wouldn’t do to alert the Princess to his presence before he’d discovered her intentions. Quickly he clambered down the ladder, not wanting to lose her, and pulled the trap door slowly and carefully closed behind him. He landed lightly on a stone floor, extending his arms to feel stone walls on either side. He was in a narrow passage, and judging by the angle of his feet, is sloped downwards.

With slow, silent footsteps he made his way down the passage, following the faint light emanating from the Princess’ lantern much farther ahead. Wherever she was headed, he would follow; and whatever she was up to, he would find out.


	3. The Fang and Bone

As she crested the hill which rose up from the moat’s edge leaving the castle’s oppressive halls behind, she felt elation bubble within her. The outskirts of castle town lay before her, and the busier heart of the city stretched on into the distance. Rarely had she had the opportunity to wander the busy city—nothing here pertained to her training, nor her studies with the ancient tech, and so there was never a reason for her to be here, despite her interest.

But tonight… tonight she was free—really, truly, free! She wasn’t the Princess or the bearer of divine power, she was just… Zelda; a seventeen year old girl who had been denied the pleasures of an ordinary life for far too long. She had rarely been allowed to indulge in her own interests let alone those of the lower classes, and so tonight, for the first time in her life, she was going to do just that.

She glanced up at the sliver of a moon, inhaling the crisp, cool evening air. The night was young and it was entirely hers. She had a plan, a specific list of things she wanted to try, but it felt exhilarating to know she could just… change her mind on a whim, or follow some unexpected opportunity should it peak her interest. There was no schedule to keep, no people to please, no guards to weigh her down. A grin split her face and she couldn’t help but twirl in a circle, arms thrown wide as she reveled in this new and strange freedom. How had it taken her this long to do something like this?

Wandering down the hill with careful steps, she passed by the small farm steads and quarry buildings that populated the outermost fringes of the city until she found her way to one of Castle Town’s main thoroughfares; her destination was near the center. The outskirts of town were quiet and few people wandered the streets, though she did offer a polite nod to the occasional passing stranger, thrilling at their ordinary, normal reply. She didn’t mind the solitude, though; It gave her an opportunity to wrap her mind around where she was and where she planned on going.

Mostly residential houses passed her by, however the closer she got to the center of the city, the taller the buildings became and the closer together they were built. As she entered into the commercial district marking the midway point to the city’s central square, shopfronts began to replace residences, though she noticed most were shuttered due to the the late hour; but that was no matter. Where she planned to go would be open late into the night.

She hurried down the dimly lit cobblestone streets and grinned as she passed a group of sweaty, dirty, late night laborers carrying massive sacks of flour off a cart into the back entrance of a bakery. One of the laborers resting on the cart offered her a small wave, and she offered one back. She grinned as she continued on. Oh, if the court could see her now…

Up ahead she spotted her destination coming into view in the form of a single wooden sign post hanging from above a large wooden door. In blocky font it read: The Fang and Bone. This particular tavern was frequented by many in the royal guard, and she’d long known of its existence. Though she had never visited it in person until tonight, she knew it to be run by a kindly if peculiar man named Kilton—a retired member of the Hyrulean Military. According to the many guards she’d overheard talk about the place, it was of decent repute, offered good food and drink cheap, and had live music every night. It seemed as good a place as any to try out the commoner lifestyle.

With her full coin purse jingling on her hip and excitement welling within her, she increased her pace, eager to arrive at her destination. She would truly be free of the restrictions of her title! She could just… have fun, try new things, and pretend for a little while that she wasn’t such a miserable failure, that she was just an ordinary girl out doing ordinary, if perhaps somewhat foolish, things.

But foolish was good—she’d never in her life been given a chance to try her hand at foolishness. Maybe… maybe she would find a handsome young man to chat with… and maybe… maybe he would even give her a kiss; or perhaps more… A faint blush peppered her cheeks and she bit her lip at the scandalous thought, but a smile worked its way to her face anyway.

However, as she passed a dark, narrow alley, wholly immersed in her thoughts, a hand shot out of the shadows and wrapped around her arm, yanking her into the darkness. Her body jerked violently and adrenaline surged within her as excitement was quickly replaced by fear. A hand came to cover her mouth, muffling her scream as she was pinned against the wall with surprising gentleness.

Her heart was thundering. Though her brain told her to struggle against her assailant’s hold, to push them away and run back to the castle as quickly as she could, her body was frozen by fear and shock, not unlike when she’d been at the mercy of the Yiga. Had she made a terrible mistake?

Her assailant was a mere hooded figure barely discernible in the darkness. One arm pinned her to the wall and the other covered her mouth. Briefly releasing the hold over her mouth the figure pulled his hood down to reveal a young Hylian man with blond hair and blue eyes; and suddenly the scream which had been crawling up her throat died on her tongue.

She stared and blinked in bafflement as Link’s blue eyes stared back at her. His gaze darted briefly back to the thoroughfare and hers followed as a shady looking pair of men with beady, predatory eyes shambled by.

Once the men had passed, Link’s attention returned to her. He looked at her hard with a strange combination of bewilderment and accusation as he spoke.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered, leaning closer. She remained silent for a moment, her mind still struggling to process that her assailant was none other than her appointed knight whom she thought she’d left behind at the castle—and that he had possibly just saved her from a potentially dangerous, or at least uncomfortable, situation. How was he here? How did he know… How did he even get out of the castle?!

“Link?” she uttered incredulously, her voice muffled against his hand. Glancing down he quickly lowered his hand from her mouth and released her, taking a small half-step back.

“It’s not safe to be wandering Castle Town alone at night… what are you—why are you even here? How did you…?” his sentence trailed off, that bewildered look back in his eyes and his voice laced with confusion.

Her prior joviality quickly faded as the sudden shift of circumstances hit her. Though it had been a close call with the two men, she knew she would have been fine if she’d made it into the tavern. But she couldn’t escape the fact that the starkest reminder of her failure—of all the stresses she had been trying to leave behind, now stood before her, intruding upon her newly-gained freedom. And though she no longer blamed him personally—still! Any distance she thought she’d gotten from her problems was now mere wishful thinking. Feeling soured, she crossed her arms and glared at him with a frown.

“That’s none of your business. Return to the castle and leave me be.” She made to turn and head out the alley but he caged her with his arms. When she ducked under his arm, he grabbed hold of her shoulders and pinned her once more to the wall.

“Princess, I can’t let you do this!” he whispered. His eyes were wide and worry was beginning to creep into them; but she pointedly ignored his concern and buried deeper into her anger, which was beginning to flare back up. She glared at him with all of her repressed fury, and she was pleased to see him wither under her gaze. She spoke coldly and with a tone that brokered no argument.

“I am not asking your permission. I intend to go about my business and you will not stop me.”

His expression softened, but he did not release his grip on her. “You’re going to the Fang and Bone, aren’t you?” He asked quietly, and the look in his eye told her he already knew the answer.

“I am,” she answered haughtily, crossing her arms once more.

“Why?”

His question caught her off guard for a moment, but she answered anyway with the same angry, determined superiority. “Because… because why not?! I can’t seem to do anything right, so I’m just… going to do the opposite. I’m going into that tavern and I’m going to order some drinks and I’m going to have fun, and I don’t care whether you like it or not or whether you think its safe. You can insist on following me if you must or you can go back to the castle, but you’re not stopping me.”

Then, with a forceful shove of her shoulder, she pushed past his arm and headed for the mouth of the alley, turning onto the main thoroughfare and continuing towards the tavern. In short order she arrived at the entrance and gazed up at the building, feeling a little of her frustration recede as the object of her plans loomed tall before her, right within her grasp. Despite Link’s interference, she felt as determined as she had when she’d left the castle. She still wanted to do this—was going to do this.

A large bay window with tudor-style glass jutted into the street, and a large wooden door stood next to it—and Zelda found herself staring down at the metal handle, feeling anticipation rise within her. As she placed her hand on it, ready to walk in and begin her night of freedom and revelry, she felt a presence next to her. Quickly turning her head, she saw Link standing silently beside her. He didn’t say anything and didn’t make to stop her, merely stared at her with an inscrutable expression.

Well…! She honestly hadn’t expected him to join her. A small, frustrating part of her felt kind of glad for the company—especially his company, and especially after that close call in the street. Well, so long as he didn’t ruin her night… She turned back to the door with a smile and pushed down on the handle. With purposeful strides she walked into the warm, noisy tavern. Link followed closely behind, shutting the door after them.


	4. Loosening Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I felt kinda lazy, for the purposes of this story, either:
> 
> a) pretend that the drinking age in Hyrule is 17, or
> 
> b) pretend that Link and Zelda are 21 and/or of drinking age
> 
> Thank you and enjoy.

The tavern was warm and cozy, with a low wooden beam ceiling and hefty plank floors scuffed by patrons and the dragging of heavy wooden chairs from table to table. It wasn’t packed, but a good number of the tables and booths were occupied. Patrons wove between them with varying levels of grace, and a small three piece band was setting up before a small dance floor. A long, carved wooden bar lined the far end of the room, and a handful of people sat on stools messily arranged in front of it.

Zelda headed straight for it.

Weaving her way across the room, she quickly arrived before the bar and pulled out a stool, sitting daintily upon it and smoothing out her plain dress. She pulled back her hood as the bartender, a portly middle-aged man with a friendly smile, walked over to her after delivering a mug of ale to a man on the other end. He leaned heavily on the counter as Link slid onto a stool beside her.

“What can I get ye’s?” he asked, glancing between the two of them.

“Um…” she stalled, thinking quickly. She hadn’t quite planned this far ahead. The only drinks she was familiar with were the wines and champagnes consumed at castle banquets and feasts, and she knew those to be of the finest quality and highest price—unlikely to be served here. However, as she pondered, she remembered something she overheard the guards say on more than one occasion. She smiled, gleefully anticipating Link’s reaction as she turned and spoke to the bartender.

“Something to get me good and fucked up.”

The man quirked an eyebrow at her but didn’t question her request, instead turning to the rack of glasses and bottles behind him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Link gaping at her, and couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with herself. Soon the bartender turned back to the pair, a bottle of light amber liquid in hand which he placed on the bar before them.

“Yeh want just a glass or the whole bottle?” he asked, bemused, and his tone made Zelda distinctly suspect the man doubted the seriousness of her request. Annoyance momentarily flared to life and she eyed at him with more than a touch of superiority.

“The whole bottle please.”

His bemusement seemed to only increase with her answer. “If yeh want the whole bottle ye gotta pay upfront.” The tone of his response clearly indicated he doubted she would be able to abide request, and that only served to irritate her further.

“How much?”

“One hundred and twenty rupees.”

Without a word she dug into her coin purse and extracted the smallest rupees she had, two silver, and placed them on the counter. She then smiled up at the man, offering a succinct, “Keep the change.”

The barkeep’s bemusement quickly faded into an expression of wide-eyed surprise. He quickly scooped up the rupees, a grin on his face as he responded with a good deal more politeness.

“Thank ye, miss!” he then reached under the counter and deposited two small glasses onto the counter’s surface. “Can I get ye anythin’ else? Maybe summat ta eat?”

“Two baked apples and some roast chickaloo tree nuts, please,” came Link’s quiet voice beside her.

The man nodded to him, grin still in place. “No problem—lemme know if I can get anythin’ else for ye.” With a final broad smile he then turned and disappeared into the doorway at the far end of the bar.

Zelda swiveled on her stool to eye him, quirking a brow. He shrugged in response.

“You’re going to want some food in your stomach if you intend to, how did you put it… ‘get good and fucked up’,” he said flatly.

Though she could tell his comment was intended with a degree of mockery, she couldn’t help but feel a little gratified at his going along with her plan instead of trying to trying to talk her into returning to the castle. Feeling emboldened, she unstoppered the bottle of amber liquid and filled her tiny glasses with a giddy smile. She lifted it to her lips and sniffed. It had an odd, astringent sort of smell, though she could also sense a sort of smoky, earthy odor.

Bringing the glass to her lips she took a small sip and immediately gagged, struggling to set her glass down without spilling the drink all over the bar as she coughed. Link patted her gently on the back, clearly expecting her reaction, as she swallowed down the harsh, bitter aftertaste. She glared at him, feeling suddenly annoyed by his almost bemused response.

“What?” she asked waspishly.

He simply shook his head as the bartender returned, setting a plate with their food in front of them.

“Enjoy! Holler if ye need anythin’,” he said with a smile, then turned sharply, scurrying off to tend to another, more drunken patron further down the bar demanding his attention.

Link grabbed the plate in one hand and the bottle in the other as he nodded to the two glasses on the counter for her to do the same.

“Let’s get a booth. More private.”

Zelda complied, picking up the glasses and following after him as he wove his way between obstacles to a small booth at the far end of the tavern, mostly hidden from view. His discreet choice was not lost on her. He settled into one side and Zelda settled into the other, setting down the glasses as he placed the plate and bottle in the middle of the table.

The band started up, a folksy fiddle tune filling the small establishment and rivaling the steady thrum of conversation. Zelda sighed, relaxing into her seat, finally starting to feel a little more at ease as she basked in a foreign sense of anonymity. She reached once more for her drink, lifting the glass to eye level and gazing at it critically before bringing it to her lips for another quick taste. She was prepared this time and managed to gag only a little, and though it still burned the back of her throat, she was able to keep herself from coughing. Link still eyed her with amusement, and it suddenly occurred to her how familiar with all this he seemed.

“Have you been here before?”

Link nodded absently, gazing around the room and out at the empty dance floor, but didn’t elaborate. When several more seconds of silence stretched on, she inquired further.

“You don’t strike me as a bar fly.”

He finally turned to her and shrugged. “I’ve been dragged here a few times by the other soldiers.”

She eyed him curiously. “Do you drink with them often?”

His absent gaze slowly morphed to one of curiosity, and he leaned forward on the table as he eyed her thoughtfully. “Why all the questions?”

She crossed her arms defensively. “Am I not allowed to want to know you better?”

He stared at her with calculating deliberation for a moment before crossing his arms as well and leaning back in his seat. “Okay… a question for a question. Sound fair?”

She considered him carefully. It seemed he was fishing for something, but she couldn’t see the harm. He’d already caught her—she didn’t have anything further to hide. Lifting her glass to her lips she took another small sip, grimacing as she swallowed it down. The liquid settled warmly in her stomach, and she could feel a sort of looseness beginning to permeate her limbs. It was at least getting easier to drink as time went on, because it certainly felt good.

“Okay—a question for a question. But I go first.”

He nodded.

“Do you drink with the other soldiers often?”

He eyed her a moment before answering simply. “No.”

She waited for him to elaborate, but when more information was not forthcoming, she glared at him. He quickly relented, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “Okay, okay. I’ve been dragged here a few times, but I don’t usually stay very long.” He then offered a half-smile. “My turn.”

She nodded for him to proceed.

“Your hair?” he asked, gesturing at her. She smiled. She was wondering when he would ask about that, and responded succinctly with no small amount of little pride.

“I developed a rudimentary temporary hair dye in my study with some of the samples we picked up on our last field survey. I felt I would be too recognizable as I am, wandering around Castle Town.”

He nodded, smiling. “Definitely safer.”

She grinned at him across the table at his subtle praise. Cocking her head, she contemplated her next question. After a moment of biting the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, she queried, “Have you ever been drunk?”

He quirked a brow at her, a smile in his eyes as he gazed at her with subtle bemusement. “No. My turn.”

It wasn’t quite as exciting an answer as she’d hoped—she’d always seen Link as rather more experienced and worldly, given all the traveling he had done throughout his life—but she sat back in the booth nonetheless and took another small sip of her drink, swallowing down the last of the burning liquid as she nodded for him to continue.

“Why are you doing this?”

…Ah. She sighed, feeling some of her fun bleed out. She was just starting to enjoy herself, she really didn’t want to have to explain… the why; didn’t want to have to think back on the day.

“I don’t want to talk about that, Li—“

She stopped, realizing suddenly how foolish it would be to use their real names should they be overheard, regardless of her hair color. Thinking quickly, she picked a random name from her most recent reading, a mythology text of Hyrule.

“—Ravio.”

Actually, she thought the name rather suited him.

He raised an eyebrow at her, expression unamused. Yes, It was perfect. With a grin she leaned forward and whispered, “It would be unwise to use our real names. So I’ll call you Ravio and you can call me… Hilda.”

“Hilda,” he asked flatly. She nodded, grinning in response to his chafed expression and enjoying yanking his chain more than she thought she would. “Yes, Ravio. Hilda.”

“Okaaay… Hilda. You still didn’t answer my question.”

She leaned back, letting out a breath and eyeing him critically. He hadn’t been thrown by her distraction. And knowing him, he wasn’t going to just let this go; it was also likely this question was the reason he’d offered an exchange of queries in the first place. Though she didn’t really want to talk about it, she supposed it might be better to get it over with, not drag out his insistent pestering. She reached out for a couple chickaloo tree nuts, popping them in her mouth and chewing somewhat forlornly before answering.

“I just…” she sighed, tugging on the sleeves of her cloak as she stared down at her hands on the table. “I want to forget for a night that I’m such a miserable failure, forget that I have responsibilities and obligations I can’t fulfill and just… have fun and make mistakes and try new things like anyone else my age would.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Is that so much to ask for?”

He looked at her—really looked at her, and after a moment released a breath, running a hand absently through his hair.

“Honestly? For… someone in your position, yes, It is too much to ask for. But…” he paused, furrowing his brow as he gazed at her before continuing haltingly. “I understand, and I won’t stop you.”

She stared at him, struggling to process his unexpected words. He was… sanctioning this? Or, well, as much as he could. It’s not like he could really stop her, but he could make the evening a lot less enjoyable if he chose to. After several silent moments, she smiled, and it quickly grew into a grin.

“But you’re not leaving my sight,” he followed up pointedly, eying her hard.

Her grin was nearly painful, such was the relief and excitement she felt at his words. With a flourish she pushed his filled glass towards him until it sat on the table next to his hand, filling her own empty one and lifting it between them.

“Well then, shall we toast?” she waggled her glass a little and he glanced between her face and it, eying her warily.

“I… don’t think I’d be quite as capable of doing my job if I’ve been drinking.”

She scoffed. Though she knew she might be pushing her luck, she couldn’t help the petulant words that came out of her mouth. “If you’re going to be my shadow all night the least you could do is not be a… a…” she struggled for the word she’d overheard the soldiers use, but it escaped her; instead it was Link who supplied it.

“A buzzkill?” he asked with slight amusement.

“Yes! A buzzkill. So here—“she lifted his glass and thrust it into his hand, and he grabbed it instinctively. He eyed her, then the glass in his hand, then her again before furrowing his brow and placing it back on the table.

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Zelda frowned, placing her glass on the table with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

“Ravio!” she huffed, crossing her arms, “As your—” she paused, glancing around their booth before lowering her voice and leaning forwards, “As… who I am, I order you not to be a stick in the mud! If you’re going to insist on staying then do be a good sport.”

She reached for her glass and lifted it again, eyeing him with a pointed glare. Once more Link glanced to her, then to the glass on the table, then back to her before releasing a sigh and running a hand down his face in an uncharacteristic gesture of defeat. He eyed her a moment longer before finally lifting his glass and extending it forward.

She grinned in victory, tipping her glass forward to touch his with a soft clink, feeling triumphant as she brought it to her lips. Link, however, hesitated before drinking his. He held her gaze significantly for several long moments before downing his glass in one gulp, showing no signs of distaste as she had. Her eyes widened and she set her half empty glass back on the table, staring at him in surprise.

“For the record,” he said with a just a hint of smug superiority, “That is how you drink a shot. Nobody sips a shot, especially not Goron Fire Whiskey.”

She gazed at the brown liquid inside the bottle curiously, choosing for the moment to ignore his teasing criticism. “Is that what this is?”

He nodded, a ghost of a smile quirking his lips as he reached for a handful of chickaloo tree nuts. “Yeah. It’s expensive stuff, too. I don’t think the bartender was expecting you’d be able to afford it.”

She reached forward for the bottle, turning it to read the label, but there were no words, only a large red flame painted on the solid black paper sleeve.

“Okay, I believe it’s my turn for a question. How did you find me?”

An odd mixture of sheepishness and pride flitted across his face as he glanced at her. “I, uh… followed you, out of the castle.”

Zelda’s eyes widened with surprise. He had followed her? She hadn’t even noticed him! And she’d certainly been keeping an eye out for such things.

“I… wanted to check on you. You seemed particularly upset after dinner and I just… had this feeling…”

Zelda snorted. “A feeling that made you think you could enter the Pri—my, chambers uninvited on a whim?” Though her words were harsh, her tone was more curious than critical.

He smiled apologetically, though the look in his eyes said he wasn’t really sorry. “Well, when I entered your room it was empty, and when I went upstairs to see if you were there I saw you sneaking into your own study, so clearly I was on to something.” He then cocked his head as he furrowed his brows. “What I don’t understand, though, is how you knew about all those hidden passageways?”

Zelda smiled. She was admittedly pretty proud of herself for managing to cobble together her vast knowledge of the castle into a solid, functional plan in a single afternoon.

“Well… you learn a lot digging through the library over seventeen years.”

Link raised an eyebrow before releasing a laugh, leaning back in his seat as he eyed her, impressed. His laugh was soft, almost melodic, yet tinged with a low timbre that caused something within her to stir. She smiled softly as she took him in, relaxing into his seat with a casualness she’d never seen him exhibit in front of her before. The dim light hit his face just right, accentuating his angular jaw and the tilt of his smile. He really was handsome; her heart gave a little flutter.

“You know… I don’t know if I’ve ever heard you laugh. It’s… nice.” The words were out of her mouth before she quite realized what she’d said, and she blushed, surprised by her own forwardness. She averted her eyes from Link’s, whose gaze had become suddenly much more intense, turning her attention awkwardly back to her glass. Lifting it to her lips she took another hearty swig, downing the rest of her glass and distracting herself with the burn at the back of her throat before setting it back on the table. She quickly changed the subject before Link could respond.

“If Urbosa could see me now,” she said with a weak laugh, “I’m not sure if she would have a heart attack or give me a pat on the back. She’s always encouraging me to live a little, though I’m not sure if this is quite what she had in mind…”

Link eyed her thoughtfully. “I don’t know… have you ever seen the Gerudo drink? They knock back noble pursuits like hydromelon juice.”

Zelda laughed, feeling relieved by his easy return to their casual banter. Relaxing a bit, she reached forward to pick up the baked apple and take a bite, licking her lips as the caramelized juices dripped from the apple’s warm flesh—cooked to perfection.

“Urbosa has always insinuated as much. I take it a noble pursuit is an alcoholic drink?”

Link nodded, picking up his own apple and taking a healthy bite. “It’s the signature drink of Gerudo Town and the strongest in Hyrule, rivaled only by…” he lifted the bottle of Goron Fire Whiskey and shook it gently before setting it back down.

Zelda laughed. “Well, I guess the bartender took my request to heart, then. And speaking of which…” She reached for the bottle, filling both of their empty glasses back up and pushing it towards him with a pointed but playful stare. He glanced down at the glass, staring at it with wry amusement for several moments before reaching for it and lifting it to his lips, downing half and setting it back down as she took a swig from her own.

“You know, I ran into Urbosa after she’d had one too many noble pursuits once. Literally, actually.”

Zelda’s brow quirked in interest. She knew Urbosa had an unruly side to her—her mother used to say as much when she was young with a sort of fond reminiscence, but around her the Gerudo Chieftain tended to be somewhat more staid. She had always wondered about Urbosa’s more… rowdy proclivities.

“Really?”

Link nodded, a smile on his lips. “Yeah. I, uh… don’t think she recognized me, though. She could barely stand, but challenged me to a sand seal race around the city anyway, accusing me of being a rabble rousing, scrawny little via.”

Zelda snorted into her apple. “Really? Did you race her?”

“I accepted her challenge, but she passed out before making it out of the Noble Canteen.”

Zelda burst out into a fit of giggles. “Are you serious? Oh, Goddess, I will never let her live this down!”

She laughed loudly as the thought of the strong and ever-graceful Urbosa so drunk she could barely stand floated lazily in her mind’s eye. However, as her laughter died down, she suddenly recalled what Link had said—and it didn’t add up. Cocking her head, she asked, “Waaait… how did you get into Gerudo town? And why did she think you were a vai?”

Link coughed into his drink. “I—uh… Too many noble pursuits, I think.”

“But how did you get into Gerudo town?”

Link lifted the last of his his drink to his lips, smiling into his glass as he murmured, “Secret of the hero.” With a swig he downed the last of his drink and set the glass back on the table.

Zelda pouted and crossed her arms. “Oh, come on! Now I’m curious!”

He shook his head, mirroring her by crossing his arms as well. “Nope. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

She huffed playfully, turning away and deciding it wasn’t worth the effort to pry into his silly little secrets, choosing instead to focus on finishing off her apple. Her mind floated pleasantly in a comfortable haze, and though she could feel a strange tingling on her cheeks it was a good tingle. She felt good.

As she took the last bite of her apple, licking the juices off her lips, her thoughts floated back to the amusing thought of Urbosa passed out on the Canteen floor. Goddesses, if only she could have been there! She would have to tease her mercilessly the next opportunity she had to see her. And perhaps she would know of Link’s secret for getting into Gerudo town?

As her thoughts lingered on Urbosa and Gerudo Town, an old memory resurfaced—and Urbosa’s teasing words shared in the shade of the city many months ago echoed in her head.

“Hey, Ravio?” Link turned his gaze back to her quirking a brow in friendly acknowledgment. “How does ‘never-have-I-ever’ fit into drinking? Urbosa has mentioned it several times and I always thought it was the name of her favorite drink, but now I’m not so sure…”

“Never-have-I-ever? It’s a drinking game popular among the Gerudo.” He tilted his head in interest. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh,” Zelda replied thoughtfully, lifting her drink and swallowing down the last of her shot. “Urbosa once said I would be terrible at it. What does it entail? Why would I supposedly be so bad at it?”

Link let out a breathy laugh as he shook his head, leaning forward on the table with an amused grin.

“I’m going to guess she thought you’d be bad at it because it requires that the participants have done a lot of unusual or embarrassing things for it to be at all interesting. You being…” he waved his hand, shrugging apologetically “…well, you, she probably assumed you haven’t had much opportunity.”

Though she knew he was, unfortunately, spot on in that assessment—that was part of why she was here tonight—she felt a little affronted at Urbosa’s unwitting insult.

“I’ve done lots of things!” she protested more loudly than she’d intended. Lowering her voice, she added, “How does this game work? I want to play.”

Link raised an eyebrow, but his skepticism was softened somewhat by his amused smile. “Well, like with all drinking games the goal is to get drunk, but with ‘never-have-I-ever’ it’s also to embarrass the other people playing with you as much as possible.”

He reached out an arm and took the bottle in hand, filling both their empty glasses before setting it down and lifting his glass, nodding for her to do likewise. She obliged, lifting it and waiting for his explanation.

“So you start by saying something you’ve never done, and if anyone else playing has done it, they have to take a drink. The idea is to say something that would be embarrassing for someone else to have done. So, for instance… Never-have-I-ever kissed a goron.”

Zelda felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. Eying him nervously, she asked, “So… if I’ve ever done that, I have to take a drink?”

“Yep, that’s the game.”

Taking a steadying breath, she lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, grimacing both at the taste and her embarrassment. But she had wanted to play… Even so, her blush deepened and she looked away, unable to meet Link’s stunned expression. As she was eying the wood grain intently he started laughing, failing miserably to stifle his amusement.

“What—really? When?”

She sniffed, turning to face him. “I was little. My parents and I had traveled to Goron City for a diplomatic meeting. One of the young Goron took a fancy to me and wanted to impress my with his knowledge of Hylian traditions, so he presented me with a bouquet of flowers and… kissed me.” She blushed harder and averted her gaze.

Link scooted forward in his seat, still sniggering as he looked at her with curious amusement. “So it was a boy? How can you tell?” Zelda blushed harder.

“I… I’m actually not sure, I’ve always just assumed… I’ve never really understood Goron gender…”

Link sat back, a wide, cheshire grin on his face. “So… I have to ask: what was it like? Was it rough and scratchy, or dusty, or…?

Zelda felt her cheeks heat fiercely as embarrassment overtook her again. “I—I was young, I don’t remember!”

Link laughed again. “Oh, come on, surely that’s something you wouldn’t forget…”

Zelda eyed him grouchily and red-faced before lifting her glass out towards him. It was her turn. Waggling it, she said fiercely, “Never-have-I-ever…” then she paused, attempting to think up something that could be considered embarrassing for him, but her imagination fell somewhat flat in the fog of intoxication. “…Lost a duel.”

A boyish grin lit up his face and he purposefully set his glass down, crossing his arms. She stared at him flatly.

“Really. You’ve never lost a duel… ever.” She hadn’t because she’d never been in a duel to begin with, but he was a different story. Surely at least once over the course of his life…?

His grin broadened as he shook his head. She sighed to disguise the laugh that escaped her, despite her annoyance. “You’re incorrigible.”

He merely smirked at her. Reaching forward to take his glass in hand once more, he tilted his head thoughtfully as he gazed at her.

“Never-have-I-ever… had a love song written for me.”

Zelda stared at him curiously. It was an oddly specific statement. Did he think really she’d had a love song written for her? Well, she hadn’t, at least not to her knowledge… His gaze on her was expectant and as the seconds dragged on and her drink remained on the table, he set down his glass and gave an exasperated sigh.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know…”

“Know what?”

“Faris!”

“What about Faris?”

He stared at her incredulously. “He’s in love with you!”

She laughed at him, waving her hand dismissively. “Oh, he is not.”

He stared at her a moment more before he began to mockingly recite the court poet’s most recent ballad, gesticulating as his voice pitched with emphasis, “…Oh daughter of Hylia, so fair and divine / with silken locks and features fine / you bear a heart so sweet and pure / with haunting beauty doth you lure / No man’s heart—least thine—can defend / your enchantment wins all in the end.”

She listened attentively, remembering when he’d performed it among several other new pieces once at dinner. She hadn’t paid much attention at the time, her thoughts too preoccupied with other matters. She took a while to truly soak in the words, her sluggish mind processing the meaning of the lyrics. After a moment, it hit her, and her mouth popped open in a silent ‘oh’. Dear Nayru, he was in love with her! How in the world had this escaped her?!

Link smirked. “Yeah,” he said in a smugly satisfied tone. He took a moment to relish in her epiphany before pushing the drink in her hand closer towards her. “Drink up.”

Eyes still wide, she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip, brows furrowing as she set it back down. “How… how did I never…?”

Popping another handful of nuts into his mouth, he shrugged. “You probably just weren’t looking for it. He does try to be subtle most of the time.”

She was distracted enough by her revelation that when it came time to thinking up another never-have-I-ever, her mind came up rather short; so she picked a random, mundane act, the first thing to float to the fore of her mind.

“Never-have-I-ever…kissed a boy.”

Link’s amusement instantly vanished and he stared at her, cheeks reddening. She stared at him in confusion, but before she could process his strange shift in behavior he slowly lifted the glass to his lips and took a swig, averting his gaze as he set the empty glass back on the table silently. Zelda’s eyes bulged, Faris and his love song completely forgotten.

“You—what?!” she gasped.

His blush deepened and he reluctantly brought his gaze back to hers.

“I… it happened when I was younger. I was… going through a phase.”

Now it was Zelda’s turn to laugh. “Really?! You kissed a boy? You?!”

Link’s eyes narrowed, but she hardly noticed; her mirth couldn’t be contained. She just couldn’t believe it—her solemn, stoic knight experimenting with boys!

“Oh, I have to ask: what was it like?” she crowed, mimicking his earlier teasing question, “Was it soft or manly or—or…?” she couldn’t finish her sentence. Her sides were aching and her breath was coming in gasps. Link—kissing a boy!

However, as a result, she didn’t notice when Link’s expression began to shift from humiliation to wickedness. A cheshire grin split his face as he said, softly and dangerously, “Never have I ever… had an orgasm while riding my horse.”

Zelda’s laughter abruptly ceased and her eyes widened in shock. A dark crimson blush suffused her face and her mouth dropped open. “H-how… how did—how did you… you KNEW?!”

It happened months ago. It had been that point in her cycle, when her womanhood was swollen and sensitive. They’d been riding together through the Faron woods on their way to Lurelin, and had been on the road together for a while so she hadn’t had an opportunity to… see to her needs. It had been quick and unexpected—the way the humidity clung to her skin and the saddle rubbed against her swollen clit had simply been too much. She’d tried to hide her body’s embarrassing reaction, had tried to shield her face from his with her hair, but still she’d let slip a small gasp when she’d climaxed. He’d given nothing away at the time, had merely asked politely if she was alright and she’d lied and said she was just a little overwhelmed by the heat and humidity. She had no idea he’d known, all this time…

He smiled victoriously, an odd gleam in his eye as he nodded to her glass and took a handful of chickaloo tree nuts, popping them in his mouth smugly. “Drink up, Hilda,” he said, emphasizing her fake name 

She stared at him open-mouthed, hardly believing the turn in events. Lifting her glass and tilting her head back, she shut her eyes tight against the embarrassment as she downed the entirety of her glass. Goddesses let the ground open up and swallow her whole…

Yet, a small part of her couldn’t help but wonder… what did he think about that? Had he… watched her? Had it aroused him? If he’d known all this time, did he think of it when he… Oh—oh goddesses, no! No—oh, what was she thinking—what was wrong with her?! Fresh embarrassment washed through her, and she averted her gaze once more.

Link let out a chuckle, unaware of her inner turmoil. “I think Urbosa made a serious underestimation of how entertaining you’d be at this game.”

That comment brought forth a little of her indignation and Zelda crossed her arms, glaring at him; though the effect was somewhat diminished by the redness of her face.

“Yeah, well, I think I’m done with this game. You have an unfair advantage.”

Link laughed, pushing the nuts towards her as he leaned back in the booth. “How so?”

“You’ve… done this more! And… you’ve had less to drink than me, so you’re thinking better!” she huffed, then immediately reached for the bottle and his glass, sloppily filling it. As she set the bottle back on the table, she pushed the glass towards him.

“You need to catch up.”

She then settled back and crossed her arms looking at him expectantly. He smirked.

“You know,” he said casually, lifting the glass to his lips, “I may have more experience drinking than you, but that doesn’t mean I’m a drinker. I’ve never even been drunk.” He paused, reaching up a hand to scratch the back of his head as he gazed out across the tavern thoughtfully. “Well, okay, maybe now I’m a little drunk…”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his almost surprised realization. “Really?” She hadn’t expected him to be so new to drinking; she knew many of the soldiers enjoyed their time in the taverns, and though she’d never thought of him as any sort of wild card—he wouldn’t be her appointed knight if he was—she had always thought of him as… somewhat more ‘in-the-know’ about these kinds of things than her. She resented her sheltered life and to hear that he was inexperienced in some of the same things as she was… kind of relieving; she didn’t feel quite so alone in her naivety. Perhaps there were other new things they could try together…

Curiosity got the better of her and she leaned forward with inquisitive eyes. “What other things have you never done?”

His expression heated for the briefest of moments before he averted his eyes, clearing his throat roughly as he turned his gaze out across the room to the small three piece band currently playing a lively fiddle tune. He didn’t answer right away, but when he did his voice was quiet, almost shy.

“I’ve never danced with anyone but my sister—and she’s got two left feet, so… I’ve never really danced with anyone.”

She immediately brightened, grateful to draw the conversation away from her humiliating revelation—especially when the change in topic was to one of her favorite activities. She turned and glanced towards the dance floor where only two other couples were engaged in a lively jig. Though the waltzes she was forced to do at castle balls and other formal events weren’t exactly her favorite, she enjoyed the grace and intimacy, the liveliness and spirit of dance. She turned back to him, smiling.

“I’d love to dance,” she said enthusiastically, and noticed him perk up at her words. “But… I don’t know any commoner dances. I’ve only ever been taught waltzes.”

Link slid out from his side of the booth and came to stand before her, hand extended and a sunny smile brightening his features. “I can teach you, if you’d like.” She grinned, feeling a strange thrill as she took his hand.

“I’d like that.”


	5. Dance Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did so much research for this, which was both cool and exhausting. Because, really, how do you describe specific dance moves without using the proper terminology? You'd be stuck in a world of painfully long, repetitive universal descriptive terms. So if you have no idea what any of these moves/descriptions mean, feel free to check out Wikipedia. Links (and more) at the bottom.

They left their cloaks behind in the booth as he led her to the dance floor. A lively tune started up, the pianist providing a boisterous backdrop to the fiddle’s keening notes as they took up position. He placed a hand on her lower back and took her right hand in his left. Maybe it was the alcohol, but feeling his hand on her back—even through the fabric of her dress, sent a small shiver up her spine.

“This song is a basic jig, and that means you’ll be doing a lot of footwork,” he said, bringing her attention back to the present. He pulled away from her without releasing his hold and directed her attention at the floor.

“There are a couple patterns, though the easiest for you will probably be this one.” He then demonstrated a simple tap alternating between the heel and toe, and she mimicked it as best she could, holding tighter to him for balance.

“Good! This one’s a little more complicated, but once you get the hang of things feel free to give it a go.” He showed her a somewhat more complex tap step, this one involving twisting and turning of the ankles. She repeated a poor imitation of the more difficult movements as best she could under the slowing effects of the alcohol, but Link seemed satisfied nonetheless.

“Jigs alternate between closed and open position, but are generally flexible. Just focus on following my lead. Ready?”

Zelda quickly repeated the footwork pattern he had shown her for good measure, and once she felt comfortable with the rhythm, nodded her head. “I think so.”

Link smiled, then pulled her a little closer, and she felt her heart flutter. He nodded his head in time to the beat of the music and on the fifth count twirled her outward. She let her body spiral out, feeling Link’s hand firmly in her own as he tugged and pulled her back in, drawing her against him once more.

She closed her eyes and let herself feel Link’s lead as he directed her through subtle body language—a trick she’d learned years ago during her formal ballroom dance lessons. The tempo of the music was quick and her heart beat increased with the rapid pace of movement the dance demanded. She was slowly getting the hang of it, and as the footwork became easier, more second nature, she allowed herself the additional sensory input of sight.

Link was gazing at her with a broad smile, his movements easy and practiced as he pulled her around the small dance floor. She couldn’t help but smile in return. He was an excellent partner—she never would have suspected it of him, and yet it somehow fit.

With a lift of his arm he separated them into open position, standing beside her with his right in her left. She mimicked his movements, even chancing an additional time step of her own. Link smiled as he watched her improvise, twisting his arm and sending her twirling once, twice, before pulling her back into him and leading them across the floor. Though the double spin left her feeling a bit dizzy, she felt exhilarated too. This was so much better than the dull, stately waltzes of the castle balls, so much freer. This felt… impassioned, alive. She felt so alive.

After a set of basic steps, he spun her again in a move she was less familiar with but managed easily enough, rolling her behind his back and around to his front before swinging her out and pulling her back in with another spin. She felt a grin form on her face as she twirled, grabbing his hand easily and resuming their journey across the floor.

The music was coming to a close, and Link leaned into her, whispering in her ear, “Follow closely for this next part.” She managed a nod despite the shiver she felt as his breath ghosted over her skin, and Link tightened his grip on her hands.

As the final chorus started up, he twisted her out and she closed her eyes once more, feeling his lead through the tension and compression in his arms. He spun her once, pulling her back to him until her back pressed against his chest and he grabbed her other hand, holding it over her shoulder as they tapped out a basic step. She felt her heart momentarily leap in her chest feeling him so close against her, but quickly forced her attention back to the moment lest she lose track of her steps. He then spun her, rolling her behind him again and twirling her twice more before turning to face her. Finally she opened her eyes to find him smiling at her. He winked, and she felt the butterflies erupt again.

Their hands hung between them as he performed a complex set of steps and taps in contrast to her more simple ones. As the music was beginning to wind down he rolled them both, keeping their hands connected as they both arched their backs, spinning and straightening to face each other. Then he spun her out one last time, twirling her and twirling her as he slowly brought her back to him, pulling her flush against him as the final notes of the song rang out and the music ended.

She was breathing heavily as she stared up at him, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. The spins had left her feeling a bit dizzy and the floor felt a bit wobbly beneath her, so she held onto him tightly for purchase; but she couldn’t deny the pleasure she felt in having his body pressed against hers. He gazed into her eyes intensely, absorbing the sight of her like she was an oasis in the Gerudo desert. Her heart thundered, and she felt a strange magnetic pull drawing her in closer—one she had no interest in questioning, or fighting.

Suddenly applause erupted around them and they startled apart. The other two couples on the dance floor had turned to them, clapping and smiling along with many of the patrons seated around the dance floor. Zelda felt herself blush; but Link, for his part, bowed cheekily before the crowd, which only elicited hoots and hollers.

Despite her lingering fluster, Zelda laughed, cheeks still peppered pink as she swatted him playfully on the arm. He rose from his bow and turned to her, grinning.

“Hey, that applause is for you too, you know.” 

A warm feeling filled her chest and she couldn’t help but smile.

“How did you get to be such a good dancer?” Zelda asked with a tilt of her head as the band prepared for their next song. Though smiled warmly at her question, there was a touch of sadness in his eyes as he responded.

“My mother taught me,” he said quietly, “She was a dancer—the royal dance instructor, actually. She taught your father the royal wedding waltz.; always said he had the most terrible timing.”

Zelda’s eyes widened with surprise. The royal dance instructor? She knew of this woman! Her father had told her stories of his struggles to master the steps of his wedding dance—he’d so wanted to impress mother. She had no idea the woman from her father’s stories was Link’s own mother!

However, she didn’t miss the use of the word ‘was’.

“What happened to her?” she asked gently. Though Link’s smile didn’t waver, she could see the latent sorrow in his eyes—a sorrow she was only too familiar with.

“She died when I was little—riding accident.” He didn’t elaborate further.

Zelda grabbed his hand and squeezed gently, feeling his fingers slowly wrap around her own at the motion. She knew the pain he felt very keenly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

His smile softened, and he ran his thumb over her knuckles as he held her gaze. “Thank you.”

Before Zelda could respond—not that she knew what she wanted to say—the band started up again, playing a slower but still lively tune. She glanced towards the musicians briefly before turning back to Link with a fresh smile.

“So, how does this one go?” she inquired brightly; but Link’s smile had faded upon hearing the music start.

“What?” She cocked her head in confusion. Did he perhaps not know how to dance to this song? It sounded awfully similar to the one before it…

“Um…” he said ineloquently, nervously scratching the back of his head, “This one’s a, ah… gavotte jig…”

She quirked a curious brow at his sudden reticence. “So? Do you not know how to dance to a gavotte jig?”

He shook his head. “No, I do, but—“

“So teach me, oh dance master,” she interrupted teasingly, taking up his hands in her own. He stared down at her with conflicted eyes, but after several moments the strange emotion was gone and he smiled, leaning in to her.

“Okay. So a gavotte jig is similar to what we just did—a lot of footwork, but it has more waltz elements so it should be easy for you to pick up.”

She nodded, moving to stand before him.

“Like a simple jig, it alternates between open and closed position and is pretty flexible; but the subtlety of the movements are drawn from the waltz and other ballroom dances, so you might include a rond or ball change. Add a little more contra body movement, and… that’s about it.”

Zelda glanced briefly down to her feet, trying out the moves he’d suggested before lifting her head and nodding. Ballroom dance was something she was nauseatingly familiar with, so she could easily incorporate it. Link approached her, taking her hands once more and pulling her into position. She felt her breath catch as he gazed intently down at her with an inscrutable expression; but soon he was nodding out a count and on five he pulled them along into the line of dance.

Somehow, this dance felt a bit more intimate—but perhaps Link was just holding her closer. They moved in a circle around the floor and Zelda let her body sway and arch in the more willowy fashion of the waltz as Link pulled her along. His eyes never left hers, and though the same smile lit up his face, there was an intensity in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It captivated her, and she didn’t look away.

He seemed reticent to switch to open position this time, despite how the other two couples did so freely. After circling around the floor once, he leaned forward a bit to whisper in her ear, “Ready to try a lift?” She felt that same shiver as his breath ghosted over her neck, but forced herself to nod. At the start of the next count he shifted his hands to her waist and she moved both hands to his shoulders. With a heave he lifted her and she felt the breath leave her as an excitable gasp passed her lips. He spun them both as he kept her airborne and she smiled down at him, feeling giddy. He lowered her at the end of the count and took up standard position once more, eyes twinkling before continuing along the line of dance. She let out a breathless giggle as he swept her along.

He moved her body closer but adjacent to his, tapping out a complex rhythm of ball changes and toe-heel taps which she attempted—poorly—to imitate; then he pulled her before him again and spun her out, twisting his body as he pulled her to him so her so her back was against his. Taking her hands he weaved their arms in a complex pattern which she let herself be pulled along by until they were once more face to face.

Almost before she realized it the song was coming to an end. Link spun her out one last time, pulling her back to him as he twirled her round and round. Feeling a bit dizzy exhilarated and clumsy from the alcohol, she lost control of her momentum and crashed unceremoniously into his chest, though he had no difficulty catching and steadying her as the final notes rang out.

She was breathing hard, gripping his hand and shoulder tightly as she gazed up into his piercing blue eyes. He gazed back intently, his hold around her waist tightening subtly as the seconds dragged on. Her heart was pumping, but somehow she suspected it wasn’t just from the vigorous movements of their dance. Dimly she could hear more applause from the onlookers, but it was the voice coming from her right that caught her attention. One of the other dancers was speaking to her, gesturing at the two of them as she spoke with laughter.

“Well? Kiss your partner!”

Zelda’s head whipped to the side and she stared at the woman with surprise.

“I—what?” Zelda asked dumbly. The woman just stood, holding her partner’s hand as she looked at the two of them with an expectant grin. Behind her, the other couple gave each other a quick peck on the lips before turning their attention towards her curiously.

Link spoke quietly against her, his voice only loud enough for her to hear and sounding a tad guilty. “That’s… part of the gavotte.” She turned her head back to his and he caught her gaze with intense eyes. “You… kiss your partner at the end.”

Zelda felt her heart pound against her ribcage as she processed this new information. Had that been why he’d seemed reluctant about this dance? The woman beside them continued to wave her hand at the two of them enthusiastically, and Zelda felt her cheeks heat as Link stared at her with a strange sort of seriousness that caused the butterflies in her stomach to flutter about wildly.

“Oh,” she said quietly, unable to manage anything more eloquent.

As she continued to stare blankly up at Link, heart racing, she heard the woman beside her begin to chant and clap her hands.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Soon the other dancers on the floor had joined in, each clapping and grinning as they waited for her to make a move; as she remained unmoving, the patrons seated around the dance floor joined in as well. She felt her blush intensify, though she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from Link’s embrace. As the chanting grew to a fever pitch, Link gave her a self-conscious smile and a hint of a shrug, and she felt his hand leave her back only to be placed gently on her cheek, tilting her head upward towards his. Slowly, he lowered his face to hers, his eyes boring into her own. Her breath caught in her throat.

Was this really happening?

He paused inches from her face, his eyes darting from her mouth to her eyes and back again; then, slowly, he lowered his lips to hers—and the room, the chanting, everything melted away. Her rational mind ceased to function as the feel of him overwhelmed her senses. His lips were soft and warm, moving against her own in a gentle but enticing rhythm. She pulled herself flush against him, wrapping her arms around his neck as the that had been holding hers lowered to wrap around her waist. The hand cradling her face slowly slid across her skin and down to her neck, giving her goosebumps, and his fingertips pressed gently against the base of her skull, pulling her in. Her breathing felt suddenly short, and she could feel his own, warm breath ghosting over her face. It felt… intoxicating. The overwhelming sensation of wanting more—more of his lips, of his warmth, of his touch—consumed her; but before she could properly explore this feeling, noise erupted around them, startling her apart.

Hooting and hollering and teasing whistles echoed over the dance floor from the crowd. She felt her face heat with embarrassment as her gaze swept the grinning crowd. Link quickly grabbed her hand and led her off the now-rowdy dance floor back towards their quiet table to echoing shouts of “Lucky bastard!” and “Get a room, lovebirds!”

Yet despite her embarrassment, she couldn’t help but be sucked back into the feel of him; and the desire to do it all again—to kiss him, to feel his body pressed against hers—flared hot within her. As they reached their table, Link came to a halt and released her hand. She expected him to sit down, to be cool and casual as he’d been all night, but he instead stood in agitation before it, one hand leaning on the table and the other running through his hair nervously. She’d never seen him so discomposed. Had the kiss had affected him that much, too? At least she wasn’t alone…

“L—Ravio?” she asked nervously.

He turned to her, eyes agonized as he raked over her form hungrily before lifting to her face guiltily; she felt her breath catch and a flush creek up her neck at his obvious interest.

She wasn’t quite sure where to go from here, and felt a tad overwhelmed by it all. She had originally come here tonight to have fun and try new things, and very possibly make some mistakes—to, in essence, act like any other young girl her age. She’d so far had fun and had tried new things, and though she wasn’t sure she really considered kissing Link a mistake, perhaps even quite the opposite, she knew it would be viewed as such by her father or the court. So now that she’d hit two out of three goals… what did she do next?

Link turned to look at her again, attempting to speak. “I—I’m…” he started, but as he continued to stare at her words failed him. He averted his gaze once more, glancing longingly at the bottle of whiskey though he did not move for it.

She slid into the booth slowly, sluggishly contemplating the events of the past fifteen minutes; yet when she tried to hold it all in her head, her mind distracted her with the memory of Link’s lips on hers, and the intense feelings his kiss had drawn out of her. If it were any other person she didn’t think she’d be quite so affected; but it was Link—and she knew quite well she was rather coming to feel strongly about Link.

She hadn’t come here to be a Princess, she had come here to simply be Zelda—a seventeen year old girl eager to experience the world. So… really, what she did next came down to how she felt about everything in the here and now, and what it was she wanted in the here and now—right?. She didn’t need to think about what others might think or how she’d feel in the morning—that was for the morning.

So… what did she want?

Link’s kiss floated back through her mind, as did the shouts of the other patrons as they walked off the dance floor; and an idea—a crazy, potentially disastrous, wonderful idea—took root in her mind. She reached forward for the bottle of whiskey, filling her glass before downing it as she’d seen Link do, grimacing as it burned the back of her throat and settled warmly in her stomach. She would really need to squash her inhibitions and commons sense to say what she was about to say to him.

“Let’s get a room,” she said, staring at moment longer at the glass in her hand before turning to him.

His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. He seemed unable to form words. Feeling butterflies in her stomach, she pulled on the courage, or perhaps foolishness, given to her by the whiskey and patted the seat beside her. Link gaped at her a moment longer before slowly settling on the edge of the cushion, allowing a good deal of space between them as he eyed her warily.

“I—rather liked kissing you,” she admitted quietly with a strange mixture of courage and shyness. “I’m not making any promises about anything, but… I’d like to do it again, and… maybe more.” She felt her cheeks burn and she turned from him, unable to meet his gaze and beginning to wonder if she’d just made a fool of herself. However, he slowly scooted closer, and she chanced a nervous glance up at him. It was several more seconds before he spoke.

“I’m not entirely sure I won’t regret this in the morning,” he began slowly, gazing at her deeply, “But—me too, and… yes.” His voice was hoarse as he uttered the word, and he lifted a hand to her face, cradling her cheek as he gazed at her almost tenderly. “I expect nothing of you, and will happily take whatever you wish to give me.”

She felt a flush spread through her body at his words, at the potential in them, and the desire for more of him flared strongly to life. With a strange urgency she leaned forward to capture his lips, placing her hands on his chest. This kiss was immediately different—less tentative and gentle, instead hungry and hot and full of desire. He leaned into her, wrapping a hand around her back and shifting his hand on her cheek to pull her closer, angling her head for better access. His lips were hot and hungry, pressing against hers with an insistence that made her only more certain of her decision—and only more wanting. Her body warmed at his proximity and the way their breath mingled, and her fists clenched at his shirt as she clung to him for dear life. Gods, she wanted more…

Pulling away mere inches and breathing hard, she managed to utter breathlessly, “Room…”

Link nodded, releasing her and sliding out of the booth, allowing his gaze to unabashedly sweep over her form as he extended his hand. Her heart beat wildly as she smiled breathlessly up at him, taking his hand and following after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note on the dances: technically neither this jig nor the gavotte jig are real things. I mean, the jig is a real thing but the way I described it is kinda... loose. And the gavotte jig I just made up to suit the purposes of this story. In my mind it's a mixture of the jig, western swing, and the waltz. Though the gavotte is a real dance, its just slower and a bit more formal compared to the jig. It's also a group dance like square dancing. It started out as a French peasant dance called the gavot, and was then adopted by the aristocracy who made it more boring. At the end of the gavotte it is actually tradition/part of the dance to kiss your partner, but when it was adopted by the aristocracy they changed it to exchanging flowers. Leave it to French nobles to take the fun out of things. 
> 
> Anyway, if you're interested in learning more about the dance moves I mentioned, resources are below. And bear in mind I did not do exhaustive research so my use of terms is somewhat spotty/loose compared to, you know, an actual knowledgeable dancer.
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_partner_dance_terms  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glossary_of_dance_moves


	6. Room for the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW ahead.

Zelda stepped inside the room and Link followed silently behind. It was a simple, sparsely furnished space with a single window on the far wall, its curtains drawn. A lit oil lamp sat on a wooden table beside a low double bed, and a worn antique dresser sat against the wall opposite with a small circular mirror secured above it. Link shut the door quietly behind them and she clutched the key tightly in her hands as she moved slowly towards the dresser, setting the key atop the wood and staring at herself in the mirror. The young, dark-haired woman who stared back at her somehow seemed too much like her and nothing like her at the same time. But somehow that seemed fitting.

Her heart was fluttering as she unbuckled her belt, clumsily sliding the leather out of the latch and setting it on the plain wooden chair beside the dresser. She heard Link turn the lock on the door, his soft footfalls sounding through the room until she saw his reflection in the mirror, and felt the presence of him inches behind her. His eyes were in shadow, but she could still make out the hard look in his eyes as he gazed over her shoulder and into the eyes of her reflection. He slowly raised his hands to her shoulders, gently gripping her before sliding his hands slowly down her arms. She shivered. He leaned into her ear, speaking softly.

“Are you sure about this?”

She glanced into the mirror, locking eyes with him through the glass. She felt her body heat under his intense gaze, and butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach at the knowledge of the latent possibilities. Within the privacy of their room, with his breath ghosting over her neck and her body responding so fervently to the promise in his eyes—and the alcohol muddying her senses until his presence was all she could focus on, all she could think about—realizing those possibilities suddenly felt as vital as breathing. Nodding firmly, she whispered, “Yes.”

He gazed at her through the mirror a moment longer before slowly lowering his head to her neck and sliding his hands teasingly back up her arms. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his lips against her, and as his breath fanned against her skin a shiver ran up her spine. Gently, slowly, Link’s lips traveled up her neck to her jaw, then to the lobe of her ear, pressing gently against her skin before moving on. She let out a soft breath.

After a moment he pulled away and her eyes fluttered open at the loss of contact. His hands moved from her arms down to her waist, and she felt him turn her hips until she was facing him, mere inches separating their bodies. He gazed deeply into her eyes for several moments and she felt her breath catch, unsure of what would come next but knowing she didn’t want to stop. Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he leaned in, capturing her lips and sliding a hand around the back of her neck to pull her closer. Her eyes slid shut once more and her heart fluttered with equal parts nervousness and exhilaration. His lips were soft—not quite tentative, but more so awaiting her permission. With a thrill she gave it, relaxing against him and parting her lips slightly, letting him move freely against her. He languished upon her lips, angling his head to kiss her more deeply. She’d never been kissed before tonight, and now that she had she felt as though she’d been deprived of something vital her whole life—lost in a desert without a drop of water. She drank him in, feeling her body thrill at this new form of contact.

Her heart was beginning to pound a drumbeat in her chest. Moving his free hand to her waist he pulled her flush against him, his lips pressing against hers with increasing insistence. Any higher thinking shut down as her body came into contact with his, arching wantonly against him. The hand behind her neck shifted upwards, fingertips pressing gently against her hairline as he pulled her further into him. Though her senses were filled with him—the faint smell of the woody cologne he wore when they were at court, the softness of his lips, the feel of his muscular body pressing warmly against hers—somehow, she wanted more, needed more.

She released a breathy sigh against his mouth as his tongue traced the contours of her lips. Then, he pressed his tongue against the close of her lips—silently asking for entrance. Zelda had heard about kisses where people opened their mouths to each other, and the idea had always repulsed her; yet now, as he asked for just that, she shivered in anticipation. Slowly she parted her lips to him, heart pounding with nervous want. With the careful attention of a lover he traced her lips once more before sliding his tongue into her, the tip of his brushing the tip of hers. It felt like nothing she ever could have prepared herself for. A desire she hadn’t even realized she’d been feeling—an intense want to be closer, to melt into him—felt simultaneously sated and teased into a frenzy. A shiver ran up her spine and through her limbs; she couldn’t suppress her moan even if she had desired to.

His tongue was slow, gliding across her own and riling her senses in a way that set her body on fire. Her fingers clutched desperately at the front of his shirt as he angled her head more then suddenly dove his tongue deeper, circling her own and exploring everything he could reach. Her mind and body were in a state of delicious chaos. She never wanted this to stop; she wanted more—she needed everything. Her breathing was becoming labored and so he broke away, his lips immediately finding her jaw. Though she was grateful to be able to suck in a deep, shuddering breath, she couldn’t help the needy whimper that escaped her.

He tilted her head to the side and, with deliberate slowness, trailed hot, tantalizing kisses along her jawline until he reached her ear. There he paused and she felt her body practically vibrate with anticipation. His breath ghosted warmly over the shell of her ear and it sent shivers through her, and she suddenly became aware of a familiar wetness forming in her underwear.

After several moments of tortuous wait he then gently bit her ear lobe, eliciting a gasp before dragging his tongue along her lobe and down her neck until he reached the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Her hands clenched tightly as the sensation rocked through her, but before she could do anything more he began to lay hot kisses along her sensitized skin. They increased in fervor until he bit her neck gently, sucking as another unbidden moan escaped her lips, her breaths coming in small pants.

Urged on by her vocal approval, the hand around her waist shifted to her hip, and he began to thumb the rise of her hip bone, dipping lower towards her mound as his other fingers gripped her tightly. He kept up his assault on her neck, alternating between nips and licks and kisses as his hand shifted again, sliding up along her hip until it reached the bottom of her corset. There, his hand stopped.

She needed more. Pulling back only enough to allow room for her hands, she dipped them between their chests and began desperately pulling on the lacing to her corset. Link quickly caught on and leaned back, gazing at her with dark, hungry eyes as she worked. The look made her heart stutter and her hands falter. When her fingers repeatedly failed to undo the next row of laces he released her waist, moving his hands between them. He held her gaze as his fingers worked deftly. She felt immobilized by his piercing eyes, her heart thundering in her chest at the promise held within them.

Once the last tie had been undone he pulled the thin shoulder straps down her arms and she shrugged out of it, hearing the item land on the floor with a dull thump. He wasted little time, leaning in eagerly to reclaim her lips. He wrapped one hand low around her waist and the other found purchase on her hip. This time as his hand slid higher, when he paused at her waist she nodded urgently against his lips, desperate to feel him where no man had touched. He willingly obliged, sliding his hand teasingly up along her ribcage until he brushed the underside of her breast through the fabric of her dress. She made a desperate, needy sound before pulling away in frustration. It wasn’t enough—there was all together too much fabric separating them.

Without ceremony she reached down and grasped the bottom hem of Link’s shirt and pulled upward. He remained still for a moment, surprised by the suddenness of her action before lifting his arms and helping her remove the article of clothing and letting it fall to the floor. Once his chest was bare to her view, she felt an unexpected shyness overtake her. She’d never seen him shirtless before… he was… oh.

He stood watching her expression with a hint of amusement. Slowly, shakily, she extended her hands, laying her palms flat against his toned abdomen and feeling his muscles tense in response to her touch. She let her gaze sweep over his exposed waist and chest. A faint trail of curly blond hair extended down from his navel, disappearing into his waistband. His biceps bulged with the promise of impressive strength, and despite herself she couldn’t help but imagine that strength pinning her to the little double bed on the other side of the room. She blushed, but didn’t remove her hands as she slid them over his shoulders and slowly down his biceps, feeling the muscle bulge beneath.

Glancing back up to link she noticed his eyes were closed, his breathing growing heavy as her hands trailed over his warm skin. Feeling curious and a little bit impish, she returned her hands to his chest and began trailing her fingers delicately along his skin towards his navel, then slowly—slowly—lower, tangling them in the trail of hair just above his waistband. He let out a strangled breath and she couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with herself.

Suddenly Link darted a hand between them and stilled both of hers before slowly opening his eyes. His gaze was fiery and her pulse spiked in response, feeling a strange sort of anticipation. Without a word he released her then stooped, wrapping an arm behind her back and behind her legs. With an amount of strength and force that surprised her, he picked her up off the ground. She let out a surprised “ooh!” as he lifted her bridal style, carrying her over to the bed. He set her down gently, but his gentility ended there. He was on top of her before she could blink, and those strong arms she’d moments ago fantasized about pinning her down caged her head between them. He hovered mere inches over her, her legs between his knees as he descended upon her, capturing her lips hungrily.

She felt vulnerable and exposed lying prone beneath him and it elicited an unexpected arousal within her. She felt only too willing now to give herself over to these heady new sensations. Without pause Link began exploring her body as his lips devoured her, tongue insistent against hers. His hand traveled down her waist, over her hip, and along her thigh until it reached where her dress pooled at her knees. Then, he slipped his hand under the fabric, tugging it slowly up her leg as his fingers ghosted along her skin. Her breath hitched and she squirmed at the teasing sensation, feeling her increasingly wet underwear dampen her thighs.

As his hand reached her hips, she lifted herself a fraction into the air so he could pull her dress up to her waist. However, once the garment pooled at her waist he pulled her upright, leaning back on his knees. His hands rested along her ribcage, holding the fabric of her dress up as he gazed inquiringly into her eyes with sudden gentleness.

“May I?” he asked quietly. She felt her heart thundering as she nodded her assent, biting her lip with nervous anticipation. He pulled the gown up higher and she raised her arms, feeling the cool air of the room hit her newly exposed skin as he lifted the gown up and over her head. He tossed the material to the floor, leaving her in naught but her matching set of pale pink lace underwear and strapless bustier.

It was a set she’d bought on a whim while in Gerudo town. The pieces were so lovely, delicate and feminine but just a little bit alluring too, with tiny pink bows at the hips and at the top of the ties. She’d been feeling down, frustrated by the monotony of her pointless, daily devotionals. The thought of treating herself to something so intimate and personal—and so scandalous—had felt like a sort of secret triumph in the face of everything weighing her down. She had made the vendor promise not to tell anyone of her purchase, and the young woman had smiled and winked, swearing to keep it a secret. She’d worn the set tonight in the spirit of that secret defiance; and now, with the way that Link’s gaze was devouring her form, she felt rather pleased she had.

“Gods,” he choked out, extending a shaking hand to her waist where the bustier cut off just above her navel and gliding his fingers along the material. She bit her lip, feeling her body heat under his ravenous gaze. However, the thick, stiff material prevented the one thing she wanted most; or rather, prevented him from reaching the one place she most wanted to be touched.

“You could take it off,” she breathed out before her nerve left her. Link’s eyes momentarily bulged, but he recovered himself quickly. With a low, eager growl, he pushed her back down on the bed, recapturing her lips. He was no longer gentle, but instead hungry and urgent, wasting no time before sliding his tongue in her mouth, angling deeper and exploring every little bit of her. She moaned against him, the feeling of being consumed riling up her already heightened arousal.

Link’s hands had moved between them, quickly undoing the ties at the front of her bustier with surprising dexterousness. As he reached the last one he pulled the bustier apart, letting each side fall to the bed as cool air rushed over her breasts and caused her nipples to peak.

Link pulled away from her lips, trailing kisses along her jaw as one hand came to rest at her ribcage. Slowly, his hand moved up, his thumb sweeping along her skin as he neared her breast. His lips trailed slowly down her neck, reaching her collarbone as his thumb swept against the underside of her breast. Unconsciously she arched into him, a needy gasp finding release between her lips as her hands fisted the patchy comforter. He didn’t move his hand any further, however, instead slowly moving his lips down her chest.

His kisses had become featherlight and teasing, trailing down between her breasts as his warm breath fanned against her skin. She could feel the tips of his hair brushing faintly against the hardened peaks of her nipples and she moaned, arching her back, feeling overwhelmed yet wanting so much more.

Suddenly his warmth disappeared and she opened her eyes to see him leaning over her. His gaze swept up and down her torso, heavy with wanting as his eyes lingered on her breasts. Despite how much she craved his touch, how dizzy she felt with almost overwhelming arousal and how far her sensible mind had wandered from her craven body, she felt herself blush under his gaze.

A soft smile alighted upon Link’s face and he leaned down, kissing her gently, moving his lips slowly, tenderly, against her own. Her heart fluttered and she let out a soft sigh. After a while he pulled away, bringing his lips down to her chest, kissing slowly back down to the valley between her breasts. Her breath caught in her throat at the sudden move, yet as he once more found himself between her breasts she felt that same urgent desire for more flood through her. She arched into him, and an almost inaudible word escaped her before she realized what she’d said.

“Please…”

Link’s lips stilled momentarily against her chest, then she felt the rumble of his quiet groan beneath his lips, and his hand, which had held its position against her ribcage just below her breast, moved to cup her.

As the rough callouses of his hands rubbed against her hardened nipples, she gasped, feeling a sort of tingling pleasure move through her. His mouth moved left, slowly up the rise of her breast until his lips were circling her areola. She squirmed beneath him, desperate to feel his lips on her most sensitive flesh; and with unexpected expediency he obliged, placing his mouth on her nipple and swirling his tongue gently over the sensitive bud as he sucked lightly.

Her eyes slammed shut and she arched against his mouth, keening, feeling her body tense as waves of pleasure surged through her at the unexpected sensation. He didn’t relent, using the tip of his tongue to rub around and against her, sucking harder as the thumb of his other hand teased her other nipple. She gasped, panting, feeling shocks of pleasure settle almost painfully in her core.

After a moment Link switched, moving his mouth to her other breast and rubbing this thumb over her now-wet nipple. The sensation of added moisture only made his ministrations more intense, and the one under his mouth was quickly become just as oversensitive. Right as she thought she couldn’t take anymore, his lips released her with a soft, wet sound. He moved back to the valley between her breasts and began trailing kisses down her torso, stopping just above the line of her underwear.

He lifted his head to glance up at her, a question in his eyes. She had barely caught up to his actions, and as she gazed down at him hovering above her underwear her body warmed at the unspoken implication. Was she really about to do this? She shut her eyes momentarily, feeling the heat of arousal churning in her veins.

Yes. She would burst into flame if she didn’t.

Opening her eyes she nodded, feeling her cheeks heat with a blush, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Link lowered his gaze back to the final article of clothing separating them, lifting his hands and delicately tucking his fingers beneath the lacy waistband at each hip. She lifted her hips slightly off the bed and he slowly began to pull down, exposing her tuft of blond hair and the lips which dripped with the evidence of her arousal. As her womanhood became revealed to him he let out a shuddering breath, quickly pulling the thin, damp material down her legs and tossing it carelessly to the floor.

He lowered himself back down, hovering just above her hair as he laid a hot, lingering kiss in a place few besides her had ever even seen. Her body shuddered at the contact, but he moved lower still until she could feel his hot breath ghosting over her slick, sensitive folds. Her mind short-circuited as she felt his lips press against where only her hands had touched. His kisses were light and gentle, lasting only a moment; and with each one she felt her body respond, felt her clit swell. After a while his kisses began to linger, hot and wet against her; then she felt a gentle suction as he pulled his lips away, only to bring them back to her and do it over again. Surges of pleasure coursed through her each time he pressed his lips against her, and it wasn’t long before she was panting, her hands fisting in his hair, clutching desperately at the strands.

Her mind was empty of everything but the ecstasy of this pleasure. She could feel a coil tightening low in her belly, and she resisted the urge to use the leverage she had to forcibly hold his face against her.

It seemed she didn’t have to. His lips pressed against her again, but this time he didn’t pull away. Instead, he kept his lips sealed around the bundle of nerves as the flat of his tongue pressed gently against her swollen clit. She cried out at the sensation, feeling a jolt of pleasure surge through her core. He did it again, this time rubbing against her slowly, his tongue a barely-there sensation. Her hips bucked into his mouth of their own accord and she gasped his name, her hands tightening in his hair as the coil tightened.

His hands came up and gently spread her legs, exposing more of her clit to the flat of his tongue. He rubbed against her again, this time maintaining a slow rhythm as his thumbs rubbed circles on her thighs. Her back arched and her hips bucked, feeling pleasure crash through her in waves as her hot, sensitive clit was teased and riled to a nearly painful point.

She was gasping, muttering incoherent pleas as her head lolled. Just as she thought she couldn’t take much more—yet needed just that, she felt one of his hands leave her thigh only to move to her opening, his finger circling her wet folds. She moaned feebly, her legs limp and her body on fire as he paused in his stimulation with his tongue to slowly insert a finger. It went in smoothly, and it felt amazing, but it wasn’t enough—she didn’t feel him enough. He rolled his finger within her, feeling out the shape and size of her before, gently, adding another finger alongside the other. Now she felt him. He stroked her, pumping in and out before he curled his fingers upward in a come-hither gesture, rubbing a bundle of nerves that caused her to whine brokenly.

Finding a good rhythm, he resumed sucking gently on her clit before slowly circling her with his tongue. The combination of sensations shocked her, causing her back to arch as white-hot pleasure built within her core. She forced her hands to the bed, fearful she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from pulling too hard on Link’s hair, instead clenching the comforter in a death grip. She was panting and gasping. The coil of pleasure was tightening to dangerous limits.

And then Link resumed rubbing against her with the flat of his tongue, and the coil snapped. The world went white as her hips bucked and back arched and she screamed her release—voice hoarse and cracking with the intensity of her orgasm. Link’s tongue stilled against her but his fingers continued to work within her, drawing out her pleasure. Achingly slowly, she fell back to earth, her surroundings coming into focus as her orgasm faded. Link’s fingers stilled and he pulled them and his mouth from her with a wet plop, a satisfied smile in place as he watched her eyes flutter open and closed, gazing dumbly at the ceiling.

“I…” she uttered brokenly, “wow… That—wow…”

Link laughed softly, crawling up her body until he was hovering over her face, a smug grin in place. “You really know how to inflate an ego,” he said teasingly, voice rich with amusement as he leaned down, laying a lingering kiss against her neck. She let out a breath, too distracted by the feel of his lips against her still-sensitive skin to tease back.

Her whole body felt relaxed, her mind floating in a warm, soothing place between consciousness and fantastical dream space. Though the opportunities to explore her own body were scarce, she’d given herself the occasional orgasm before—but they were never anything like this. She didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or Link—she strongly suspected it was Link—but by the Goddess whatever it was made her feel wholly unbelievable.

She closed her eyes as Link continued to lay soft kisses against her neck, and without much thought she arched herself against him, feeling that familiar desire to melt into him; but as her hips came into contact with his she heard him groan, leaning his forehead against her neck as he let out a heavy breath. There was a thick bulge in his pant leg which pressed against her hip.

A thought occurred to her, then. She had received, but she had not given; and was not a part of the experience driving your partner to their own pleasure, and getting to bear witness to such intimate exposure? She lowered her hips, tilting her head towards where Link’s lay draped across her shoulder. She pressed a featherlight kiss against his lobe, speaking into his ear.

“Link?”

He let out a breath, then nodded faintly.

“Is there… um, some sort of… an equivalent? That I can do for you? I’d very much like to.”

Link’s head slowly rose off her shoulder until he was eye-to-eye with her. Surprise and want warred in his eyes as he stared back at her. He spoke hesitantly.

“… Yes… there is an, um… equivalent.”

She met his gaze equally despite her growing embarrassment, speaking shyly before her nerve left her.

“Can you show me?”

He continued to stare at her, eyes widening a fraction before he lowered his forehead to hers, his body going slack and tense simultaneously as he nodded emphatically. “Yes.”


	7. Equal Satisfaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW ahead.

Zelda leaned over Link, seated between his legs with her hands on the waistband of his trousers as her gaze flitted between his eyes and crotch, feeling a blush brighten her cheeks. She was still naked—he’d said, and with rather poorly veiled enthusiasm, that it would… help things along if she were—so she’d left her clothes scattered on the bed and floor despite the odd, yet thrilling, sense of vulnerability she felt. She wanted to give him what he’d given her—and that desire superseded her deeply inbred modesty.

With nervous fingers she undid the fastenings on his trousers, sliding them down his legs as his body trembled beneath her hands. Once she reached his knees he clumsily kicked them off, leaving him almost entirely nude save for his briefs.

She eyed the bulge against his lower abdomen with a strange mixture of curiosity, eagerness, and nervousness, tucking her fingertips into the waistband determinedly. Her eyes glanced fleetingly up to his only to find him staring half-lidded back at her, and with a surge of confidence she tugged the final article of clothing down to his mid-thigh.

Her eyes swept over his length with intense curiosity as butterflies fluttered in her stomach. He was… nice. Very… she swallowed hard—very attractive. She’d only ever seen diagrams in books which made everything out to be very clinical and patently unsexy—but she liked what she saw. A lot. And that realization made her blush.

He was smooth and long with only the barest bulging of veins beneath his skin; thick but not massive, and he was hard—very hard. She felt a thrill run through her as she extended her hand.

Link had explained the basics to her and she put what she’d learned into action, gently gripping his length as her fingers curled around him. He pulsed and twitched faintly in her grasp as her hand settled around him. As she adjusted for a better grip, her thumb brushed over a small stretch of skin connecting his head to his shaft and she heard him release a shaky breath. Curious, she glanced up, finding his eyes closed, lips parted, and shoulders tensed—so she did it again. His hips bucked slightly in response and he gasped. She laid one hand gently against his hip bone to still him, repeating the motion as she eyed his face with interest, and an arousal she had not expected to feel.

His chest was rising and falling rapidly as she gently stroked the small stretch of skin with her thumb. Clearly this was a pleasurable, sensitive area—one she made note of for later, and as much as she was enjoying his reaction, she wanted to explore more; so she moved her hand lower on his shaft. Her fingers wrapped delicately around his girth, and as he’d instructed she began slowly stroking up and down.

After several false starts she found a rhythm that felt comfortable and kept up the pace as she watched his body react to her touch. His brow was furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a small breath as his hands gripped the comforter. A faint flush colored his chest, and the muscles in his abdomen flexed in response to her strokes. A thrill ran through her at the knowledge she had brought him to this point with but a few strokes of her hand.

But she wanted to do more than simply use her hand—she wanted to use her mouth as he had done. With a nervous excitement she knelt down until her face was level with his cock, continuing the little strokes up and down his shaft with her fingers.

She let her gaze sweep over him and the stretch of skin connecting his shaft and head once more drew her attention as she leaned in. Extended her tongue, she licked it lightly with the tip. Link’s hands clenched the comforter tightly in response and he groaned, his cock pulsing.

Zelda felt an unexpected electric sensation jolt within her core upon hearing his throaty approval—so she did it again. This time Link’s hips rolled up into her, his head grazing the flat of her tongue as he groaned again. She was taken by surprise at the sudden movement, but felt enthralled by his utter need for her touch.

Once he’d lowered his hips back to the bed, Link looked down to her guiltily, uttering a breathy, “I’m sorry.” She simply smiled mischieviously, keeping her eyes locked with his as she leaned down and took just the tip of him wholly into her mouth, careful of her teeth as he’d warned, and placing her tongue along that same stretch of skin. With her fingers she continued to stroke up and down his shaft, keeping her lips steady but creating a gentle suction within her mouth.

Link’s hands flew to her hair, and though his grip was light she could feel the tension in his muscles as he attempted to restrain himself. A giddy feeling rushed through her, and she couldn’t help the urge she felt to shatter that restraint. She kept up her pace, stroking his shaft in time with small, gentle movements of her tongue against the underside of his shaft. Soft moans poured from his lips like prayers, his fingers tensing in her hair.

After a while she felt her cheeks begin to tire, and though she wanted nothing more than to continue hearing his vocal arousal, she released him, continuing to stroke as she glanced up into his eyes. He was starting down at her half lidded, and she felt that giddiness again, stroking a little faster as it coursed through her. She was getting… surprisingly excited by his impassioned response, and the knowledge it was she who brought out this reaction in him.

Once more she lowered her head to his cock, slowly and carefully taking him into her mouth. He let out a breath as she took him, feeling him pulse and twitch in her mouth. She swirled her tongue around his head once, then slowly began to suck more of him into her mouth. Every little bit more of him she took she heard his pants increase in volume—and she relished the sound, feeling something primal stir within her.

She wrapped her tongue over his head and all around him where she could reach. His hands tightened in her hair, threatening to pull out her bun, and they shook with the effort not to force her head down on his shaft. She felt fresh moisture glide across her skin at the apex of her thighs, the feel of his cock throbbing in her mouth sending a shock of pleasure to her core.

Swirling her tongue against the underside of his shaft, she slowly lifted her head, once more needing a break. This was something she would have to practice—it required strength in places she didn’t know had muscles. The thought did give her momentary pause; she would only need to practice this if she intended on doing this again. Did she?

She suspected she had already made up her mind about that.

She slowly crawled up Link’s body to where he lay panting against the pillow. His face was flushed, his hair messy, and his shoulders and arms defined from the tension of his arousal. She felt her body warm at the sight, a tingling feeling spreading between her legs as she took him in. Goddess, what a sight.

She leaned down, pressing her lips gently against Link’s. So distracted was she by her own thoughts she hadn’t paid attention to the press of their bodies, and as her lips pulled hungrily on his, she felt his cock twitch up and press itself up against her core.

A gasp escaped her and she felt her body jolt eagerly in response, almost as though this was what it had been waiting for all along. Link’s eyes widened and he quickly scooted up the bed so his dick was level with her navel.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, “I’m sorry, I—I don’t want you to feel like you—“

She cut him off with a kiss, pulling her body up the bed until the apex of her thighs hovered over his erection. She slowly lowered herself onto him, grinding against him, her folds sliding along the length of his shaft until his head pushed against her still-sensitive clit and she moaned into his mouth. She slid along him several more times, losing herself in the feel of his shaft between her legs, before slowly lifting herself off of him so she could lean forward into his ear.

“It’s okay” she whispered, “It’s okay, I—I think I want that.” She felt her cheeks heat—but her desire was too great to allow her embarrassment to stop her. For several moments only the sound of his heavy breathing reached her; then, a faint, breathy laugh escaped him and she felt his arms wrap around her shoulders as he suddenly rolled them over. She found herself staring up into his twinkling eyes, his hand lowering between them to place his erection between her folds once more. Then, he looked into her eyes.

“Happy to oblige,” he said with a quirk of his brow and a mischievous smirk. His hips slowly began to grind against her, drawing up and down her folds before he redirected his cock to her opening. He reached down, taking a nipple in one hand as he kept the head of his cock still, pressed up against her and threatening to slip inside.

She immediately arched against him, feeling her nerves catch fire as his thumb teased one sensitive bud before switching to the other. His other hand reached down to her clit, rubbing gentle patterns all around it but avoiding touching it directly. She moaned needily, feeling herself wet around Link’s head in response to his teasing. After several more moments of exquisite torture, Link released her breast and clit, moving back up to her head and kissing her slowly.

“Tell me if it hurts, or if you want me to stop,” he whispered against her mouth, and she nodded against him. Slowly, he pushed in. Her body stretched at the intrusion, and she could feel a slight pain from the tension, but with the soft, slow pace of his movements any discomforts quickly faded. As his full girth settled inside of her, she could feel Link quiver as he leaned against her shoulder heavily, his breath hot against her neck.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, and Zelda felt her body flush and core tense at the harsh word—at the lust lacing his tone. Link, however, seemed too absorbed to notice his slip of language—not that she cared. Quite the opposite, actually; she wanted to make him say it again.

Link lifted his head to gaze into her eyes, and the deep, wanting look she saw there made her clench once more, and she felt him twitch in response, pressing insistently against her. Her eyes widened then fluttered shut, releasing a soft, “Oh…”

Link began to slowly ease out of her. He was long and hard, and as her body squeezed around him she felt the resistance of his stiffness—and never would have guessed it could fee so damned pleasurable. She panted softly as all but his head pulled out, then slowly pushed back in. He somehow managed to fill her more deeply this time, and she moaned, her head falling back against the pillow. She was so full—surrounded and filled by him. Her hands came up to his back and she dug her fingers into his skin, letting her nails drag along his sides as he slowly pulled out once more.

Link gasped at the burn of her nails scraping along his skin, his eyes sharpening on her as a ferocious, animalistic look entered his gaze. She felt suddenly small beneath him—like prey helpless before a predator; but it somehow didn’t frighten her—instead, it sent a thrill through her, and made her want to taunt that look out of him again. Firming up his hand holds on either side of her head, he thrust quickly into her all at once, sheathing himself fully. She gasped as he hit what felt like the back of her vaginal canal, tightening her hold on his back.

He began a steady rhythm, thrusting in and out while kissing her neck, lips, and chest intermittently as he breathed warmly against her. The sensation was overwhelming—she felt him everywhere, within and without, consuming her senses. It was too much—she wanted more; she never wanted this to stop.

He began to speed up, his thrusts becoming quicker and deeper, and she found herself angling her hips to better meet his thrusts. She stared up at him, enjoying the sense of dominion he held over her; but the thought of him beneath her, flushed and eager, sent a jolt of arousal through her. At least for a bit, she wanted to be on top—to see him squirm beneath her hands again.

Without warning she gripped him and rolled her weight to the side, attempting to surprise him and roll herself on top. It almost worked; but she overestimated the amount of force needed, and send them rolling straight off the bed.

Link yelped, landing on the floor in a heap beside her. Her leg was draped over his, and they both lay on their backs, limbs splayed in various directions. Surprised at where she suddenly found herself, she stared blankly at the ceiling in confusion before Link’s laughter beside her prompted her to turn her head. He sat upright on his elbows as he gazed at her, laughing softly, his erection resting against his thigh. As their ridiculous position dawned on her, she laughed too, scooting closer so she could kiss him, her smile still in place.

It started playful, just soft presses of the lips, but heated quickly. Link’s tongue pressed against her lips, darting inside her mouth, and he pulled her closer until she lay partially atop him, his hands running up and down the length of her back. She shivered, feeling the absence of him between her legs keenly.

Pulling back, she panted out, “Bed.” Wordlessly, Link nodded, hunger once more consuming his eyes as he pulled away, allowing her to sit up and crawl her way back to the mattress. Her legs felt a bit wobbly beneath her, and as she pulled her torso up onto the bed, still on her knees, she felt Link’s hand land on her lower back, stilling her.

“Wait—wait, don’t move.”

Zelda stilled, leaning on her elbows on the low bed and looking curiously over her shoulder to see Link kneeling behind her, gaze intently focused on her backside. She felt her body heat at the fire in his eyes as he took in her unintentionally proffered ass; then he moved behind her, spreading her legs with his knees as he positioned himself at her entrance, hands on her lower back.

With a gentle thrust he reinserted his head, but didn’t move further. She felt vulnerable, pinned between him and the bed. That earlier feeling of submission returned to her, and she felt the overwhelming desire to be… taken. To be owned. She hadn’t expected this, and never would have thought of it herself—but suddenly she found herself wanting nothing else.

She bit her lip, feeling herself stretch to accommodate him, the promise of more tantalizingly close. He glanced to her, a question in his eyes, and she nodded faintly. Goddess, this was so… primitive. Her body trilled in anticipation.

He pushed further into her, sheathing himself with a groan and leaning forward over her. He positioned his hands on the bed, on either side of her waist. She leaned forward fully onto the firm mattress, feeling the rough material of the comforter rub against her breasts, cheek, and temple. The bun in her hair was coming loose, the pin poking at her scalp, and so with clumsy fingers she reached back to unpin it, feeling her hair cascade around her on the bed.

Link slowly resumed his earlier pace, a steadily building rhythm of heat and speed, and she gasped into each thrust. At this angle he somehow managed to fill her even more deeply, and reached a sensitive bundle of nerves deep within her she had no idea even existed, let alone felt this good. Her core was filled with electric heat, and she clenched tightly around him as he thust within her.

His hands found their way to her back, and she felt his fingers trace slowly up her spine and along her shoulder blades. His touch was light, teasing, and left her skin tingling. Then, his fingers moved up her neck and into her scalp, threading through the strands of her hair gently before taking a handful and gripping with unexpected tightness. She felt her head jerk up at his command and she let out a gasp as Link simultaneously thrust hard into her, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves.

She cried out, feeling a familiar tension coil low in her belly. Link didn’t release her hair, but instead used his grip to slowly pull her upright until she was at a forty-five degree angle to the bed. He continued to thrust into her harder and deeper, a low growl coming from his throat that sent heat straight to her core. He was rutting into her like an animal—it was… almost primitive, and stirred something deep within her that was raw and filthy and hungry.

She panted, lifting his free hand from where it rested against the bed and pressing it to her breast, letting out a whine as his hand cupped her tightly. He let out a groan and she likewise whimpered as his fingers brushed teasingly over her pert nippled, causing her to clench around his girth as he thrust into her.

The coil low in her belly tightened as his fingers brushed against her—but she needed more.

“Link, please…” she panted, fisting the comforter where her hands propped herself up. He let out a groan, then suddenly pulled her upright against him by her hair, thrusting deep into her as he tweaked her nipple and bit down hard on her neck. She cried out, feeling pleasure suddenly surge within her as the coil tightened to near-unbearable heights.

He released her hair as her back pressed against his muscled chest, lowering his other hand to her clit, circling the nub and sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through her body. His rhythm within her was nearly bruising, and she could hear skin slapping against skin as he thrust rapidly within her. She was close—so close. She just… something more, just a little bit more…

His mouth latched onto her neck once more at the junction of her shoulder and he sucked hard. As his teeth pressed into her skin, she felt the coil snap, clenching tightly around him as she shattered around him, screaming her release. He thrust harder into her as she came once more drawing out her orgasm, movements becoming erratic and his hips trembled and tension filled his limbs.

As her body was starting to come down from its high, he forced her suddenly back to the bed, her torso flat against it as he pulled out of her. She felt a sudden warm liquid land on her back, and felt a flush rush through her at the realization of what it was. She hadn’t thought of that… She was glad he hadn’t come in her—she was in no hurry to be a mother; but on her back? She felt a little bit awkward and entirely thrilled at the… filthiness of it—both at the same time.

Link collapsed above her, careful not to press against her lest he smear his seed between their bodies as he caught his breath. Zelda let herself smile and stretch out a bit beneath him, careful not to disturb the cum on her as she luxuriated in the afterglow of her orgasm. After a few moments of silence Link pulled away, saying softly, “Hold still.”

He got up and walked to the wash basin in the corner of the room. Zelda turned her head and watched him, admiring the slight curve of his ass as it met his muscled back, his toned legs… Goddess, he was handsome. If she wasn’t feeling suddenly so exhausted she’d jump on him all over again.

Link returned with a small wash cloth and knelt behind her, gently wiping up the evidence of their lovemaking. Zelda quietly let him clean her, feeling a strange sort of contentedness overtake her. Once she was clean, Link tossed the cloth to a corner of the room, helping her to stand and throwing back the covers.

In the back of her mind, she knew there was a voice—one full of questions, full of uncertainty and embarrassment and nervousness. A voice that demanded to know what all of this meant. She hadn’t planned on any of this, with Link or someone else; she hadn’t really thought about what this momentary lapse in decorum and propriety would mean for her, for them, or for their future. 

But no. That was for the morning. And it wasn’t morning. For the moment, she would bask in this glorious afterglow.

She slid in beside him, snuggling up to his body and letting her head fall against the pillow as he covered them both. She could still feel the sticky mess between her thighs but she was too tired and too comfortable to care. She felt his bare chest press against her back, his arm wrapping around her waist as his head nuzzled into the crook of her neck. She could already feel herself beginning to fade, but forced herself to turn to him, a smile in place.

She leaned up and kissed his cheek, a soft, tender press of her lips before letting her head fall back to the pillow. As her consciousness faded into dreamless sleep, she could feel his nose brushing against her neck and cheek, his warm breath fanning against her face as he pressed a soft, tender kiss of his own against her jaw.

Before she knew it she was fast asleep; Link followed not long after.


	8. Sunrise and Sunset

“Zelda… Wake up.”

The voice came to her through a thick fog, hazy and indistinct. She ignored it, the exhaustion of her body and the softness of the bed lulling her back to sleep. She was nearly fully submerged in the warm tides of dreamland when the voice spoke again, more urgent this time.

“Wake up… Zelda, you need to wake up. It’s almost sunrise.”

An insistent pressure against her shoulder jostled her torso, sending tremors up to her head and she rolled over with a groan, the fog instantly dispersing as a wave of discomfort washed over her. A massive, skull-splitting headache throbbed to life, and a full-body ache made movement intolerable. Her mouth felt like sandpaper, dry and rough, and the combination of sensations drove her from sleep to wakefulness with an unpleasant jolt. She rolled over again, struggling to find a more comfortable position for her head, groaning as she clutched at her temples.

“There’s some water on the bedside. You have to get up, and we need to leave—before anyone at the castle notices we’re missing.”

The voice was both apologetic and urgently insistent, and it took a moment for her to put the pieces of her fragmented memory together. Sneaking out of the castle… Link. The tavern. They—their…

Suddenly she jolted upright, feeling her head throb with the movement and the bed sheet slide down her breasts, as cool early morning air caused her nipples to peak. She blinked blearily around the room, fighting through her headache as she absorbed her surroundings. The room was dim, the oil lamp burning low. A pitcher of water and an empty glass sat on the dresser, and a filled glass rested beside the lamp on the bedside table. Turning her gaze beside her, Link sat atop the sheets in nothing but his trousers, cheeks faintly pink as he struggled to keep his gaze at eye level. With a muffled ‘eep!’ Zelda pulled the sheets back up to cover herself, staring at Link wide-eyed.

However the sudden movement was too much for her aching head, and with another groan she leaned forward, a hand clutching her temple as her eyes shut tight in an agonized squint. Though she hadn’t been revealing anything he hadn’t already seen—she didn’t have anything left he hadn’t already seen—a thought that would have made her blush profusely had she not been in so much pain, the gravity of the situation was slowly making itself known to her.

Goddess, what had she DONE? She was the Princess of Hyrule, and she had let her own knight-attendant deflower her, out of wedlock, in a shabby inn while they were both completely drunk. And possibly worst of all—he really had little blame in all of this. Her choices and actions precipitated all of it.

No, that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that she had reveled in every second of it and, strangely, didn’t regret it. Not a single part. And if she were truly, painfully honest with herself… she desperately wanted to do it again. With him; but… maybe next time with a little less alcohol.

She felt the bed shift as Link made to stand and chanced a peek up at him. He walked around the mattress, grabbing his shirt from the floor and slipping it on before coming around to her side and handing the filled glass to her. She lifted her head, glancing at it wearily as she pulled the sheet self consciously tighter around herself. With effort she reached up and took the offering.

“Welcome to your first hangover,” he said wryly as she took the glass, downing the liquid as though she hadn’t had a sip of water in months. His attempt at humor made her smile as she sucked down the water, but it lasted only a moment. His expression quickly turned awkward as he cleared his throat.

“We don’t have much time before the sun rises, so you may want to hurry. I’ll… um, be outside while you get dressed. Just… knock on the door when you’re ready.”

He then turned without another word and walked for towards the door. Panic rose suddenly within her. She hadn’t had more than a moment to orient herself, yet somewhere within her she knew that if he left like this he would be closing more than just the door of their room. She couldn’t bear the thought. With clumsy hands she set the glass on the table and half-shouted after him.

“Link—wait!”

He stopped and looked over his shoulder at her, his hand on the doorknob and his expression even yet somehow inscrutable. But now that she had his attention, she didn’t know what to say. Aside from her mind being bogged down by her hangover, she just… didn’t know what someone did in this kind of situation, or what any of this meant, or how he felt in the cold light of semi-sobriety, or how she felt for that matter… But she knew she had to say something, that he knew she was… well, she didn’t quite know, but she knew she wanted him to feel that this was all okay.

“Thank you,” she said in a breath, feeling her cheeks redden at the sudden awkwardness between them. Link stared at her a moment, his shoulders stiffening momentarily before his lips quirked up in a small smile, a warmth in his eyes as he held her gaze. He nodded, silent as ever, then turned and exited through the door, shutting it softly behind him.

Her shoulders stooped, releasing a tensions she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and sighed heavily. Goddess, where did she go from here? Things couldn’t just go back to normal between them, could they? And how exactly did he feel about all of this? How did she feel?

Well, perhaps she knew, at least in part, how she felt about all of this. Her cheeks shaded pink at the memory of his sure hands roaming her body, of his lips on her sensitive, swollen clit, of him—buried within her, thrusting hard and deep as though he were claiming her for his own. Despite her level of inebriation, she didn’t think she could ever forget that, forget their night together. It was seared into her mind, haunting and vivid.

But the question still remained: what about Link?

Stillness and silence was all that met her as the unanswerable question floated along the surface of her mind.

The minutes were ticking by and with each passing second they drew closer to sunrise. Link was right—they needed to get moving, get back to the castle before anyone noticed they were missing. The morning shift change of the castle guard would happen just before the sun broke the horizon. That was their best bet for getting back in undetected.

With another sigh, she pushed the sheets back and swung her legs out of bed, pushing through the throbbing of her head and the chill of the air on her naked body. As she stood on wobbly legs, she felt a sudden intense ache between her thighs and she doubled over, resting her palms on the bedside table to support her weight. She shut her eyes and took a breath. It wasn’t a sharp pain, nor an overwhelming one, but between the full-body ache, the ache between her legs, and the throbbing of her head, she felt nausea rise swiftly within her. She forced her body still and sat back down upon the bed, breathing deeply until it passed.

With greater care, she slowly stood. She could still feel the stickiness between her legs, and shuffled awkwardly over to the dresser to clean herself up. Walking, it seemed, would be a bit uncomfortable for a while. Pouring water on the spare wash cloth, she gently wiped away the lingering remnants of their sordid activities. Despite herself, she felt a momentary wave of sadness. It was one of the few pieces of evidence that this all hadn’t been some fantastical dream—and now it was gone.

Setting the cloth back on the dresser, she then picked up Link’s empty glass and filled it with water, slowly drinking down the soothing liquid. Setting it down once it was emptied, she stared at the rim of the glass, wondering where Link had pressed his lips. With a fingertip, she traced the rim. Would she ever feel his lips again after this?

With a last lingering glance, she turned from the glass, gathering her effects from around the room. With each passing moment she felt her faculties slowly return as she acclimated to wakefulness, and as a result felt the creep of morning more and more keenly. After several minutes of clumsy fumbling, she managed to redress herself, taking a look at her figure in the small mirror above the dresser. Her face looked a bit haggard. There were faint bags under her eyes and her skin showed the evidence of last night’s sweat and grime. Her hair was down—she’d been unable to find her pins in the bed sheets and didn’t want to waste the time looking; It was really a shame, too, as one of them had been a gift from Urbosa for her birthday last year.

Though she almost missed it with her hair draped over her shoulders, peering closely in the mirror she saw a red mark on her neck at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Pulling the hair aside, she frowned at it. She would have to be careful when she returned to the castle, perhaps make use of the makeup her ladies maids were always trying to get her to use, but at least the neckline of her formal gown would cover it.

She turned, taking one last, lingering glance around the room. This could very well be the last time she ever did anything like this—the last and only time she would ever be with him like this. She felt a surprising amount of regret and dejection at the thought. With a soft sigh she hefted both their cloaks in her arm and turned for the door.

Link stood in the hall beside the door to their room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and his head turned thoughtfully up towards the ceiling. His head swiveled quickly in her direction as she stepped through the doorway, shutting the door quietly behind her. Wordlessly, she handed him his cloak, which he took, pulling away from the wall and throwing it over his shoulders with a flourish. She followed suit, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders and pulling up the hood. He turned and with a nod, they headed for the stairs.

The walk back through castle town was a silent one. Zelda was quietly fighting through her hangover, struggling not to let the ache between her legs slow down her stride. If Link noticed or was bothered by her lagging pace, he did not comment on it.

She was lost in her thoughts—hazy and indistinct as a result of both her lingering discomforts and the exhaustion that was just beginning to catch up to her. She must have only slept three or four hours before Link woke her up; and good thing he had—by the almost imperceptible lightening of the dark sky, sunrise was not far off.

Wading through the moat proved a little more difficult in her semi-sober state, and Link silently offered his hand to help her keep her balance on the slippery rocks. She took it gratefully, reaching the other side quickly with his help. They backtracked through the series of caves and hidden passageways she’d taken earlier in the night, and by the time they reached the lockup, she could hear voices down the hall signifying the imminent shift change of the castle guard.

“Hey, Dornan! Pick up your damn cards! I ain’t gonna take shit from Captain Fyrthen because you can’t at least pretend to follow a couple stinkin’ rules!”

Link peered around the corner, his ears quirked towards the source of the voices before he quickly darted out, signaling for her to follow. She stepped quietly around the corner, following his lead down the hallway until they reached the base of the spire to her study. Link nodded silently for her to open the passageway door, turning his ear towards the blind corner.

Zelda ran her hands along the stone, searching for the panel she’d read about years ago. She hadn’t actually entered through the passage in the opposite direction, and so wasn’t quite as certain which stone was the right one.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m goin’! Not like we’ve EVER had any intruders or escapees down here, anyway. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

Link’s eyes widened and her hands stilled as the voice carried down the hall. Her heart began to thunder in her chest as footsteps echoed off the walls, signifying the approach of a lockup guard. Link gestured wildly with his hands for her to hurry, and she began running her hands quickly over the stone, pressing on each one forcefully, hoping desperately it would be the right one. The footsteps grew louder, and her panic increased as each stone she passed over proved incorrect. She turned to him, eyes wild and panicked as she silently but vigorously gestured for him to help her look.

Link stooped and began running his hands over the stone below her, closer to the ground. The footsteps grew louder as the guard neared, and they both knew it would be mere moments before he rounded the corner.

Suddenly Zelda felt the entire panel of wall she was searching give way—but she hadn’t yet found the right stone. Looking down, she saw Link smiling in triumph as a large panel of stones depressed, then slid behind the wall with a faint grinding sound.

“What—who’s there?!”

The guard’s footsteps quickened, and with her heart thundering, Zelda jumped through the opening and Link followed suit. With impressive speed and strength, he shoved the door closed, paying little attention to the grinding whine of the door or the faint thump of it falling back into place.

With the door shut, they were both thrown into complete darkness—but Zelda paid it no mind. They hadn’t been caught, and that was all that mattered. Her heart was still slowing down from their close call and she slumped against the wall, breathing heavily and faintly aware of Link’s presence beside her.

Having caught her breath, she pushed off the wall and began running her hands along the wall, searching for the hook she had left the Sheikah lantern hanging from. Her fingers grazed smooth stone, then suddenly she felt a hard wall of hair—her hands had found the side of Link’s head—and she stilled.

Link’s hand came up to grip her wrist gently, and in the pitch dark she became hyper aware of touch—of the calluses on his palm, of the way his fingertips wrapped all the way around her wrist—and her mind was drawn back to the way he’d held her hands while they’d danced, and of the way he’d run his hands along her body. Suddenly she needed to catch her breath again.

He pulled her hand away from his head, slowly moving it between them. She felt her wrist hover just over his face, his warm breath ghosting over her skin, and she shivered, feeling anticipation rise within her. He held her like that for several moments, no words spoken by either of them, her heart pounding a drumbeat in her chest. Then, she felt something cold press into the palm of her hand—the handle of the Sheikah lantern. She let out a breath, feeling suddenly foolish. Wrapping her fingers around the handle, she pulled away from him, uttering a breathless, “Thank you.” Feeling along the lantern’s base, she found the switch and turned it on.

The narrow passageway became illuminated in the dim light of the lantern, and she could finally see Link’s inscrutable expression as he nodded for her to continue on up the passageway. Suppressing a disappointed sigh, she turned and began walking up the slope. Link followed behind her.

As the top of the spire drew near, anxiety began to creep back into her heart. They would soon return to the real world, and life as she knew it—the life she dreaded—would begin again. This night had been some strange, alternative dream world where she wasn’t Princess Zelda, she was just Hilda—a young and carefree seventeen year old girl. It had been… such a breath of fresh air. For a single night she had been free. And now, she was about to put her shackles back on—they both were. All the restrictions and expectations of her station were slowly trickling back, and she felt deeply on edge.

As she thought about their coming emergence from the passageway, of their near-miss down in the lockup, a sudden thought occurred to her. What if someone found out? What if there were guards waiting for them when she returned to her room? And even if they managed to make it back to their respective chambers and their absence went unnoticed… would Link tell? Even just… maybe a friend? Did he have friends? Someone he thought he could trust? What if they told someone they thought they could trust?

She stopped suddenly, and Link nearly walked into her. Turning sharply despite the throb of her head, she looked at him seriously, unable to hide the anxiety in her voice.

“No one can ever know,” she said gripping the lantern tightly in her hand. “I would be…” she let out a breath, “Well, the courtiers already think I’ve been sleeping with you so I suppose it wouldn’t come as any surprise to them, but—“

“They—what? They do?”

Link looked suddenly gobsmacked, his blank expression morphing into shock. She let out a frustrated huff, the memory of their rumor-mongering at dinner stinging as she recalled it.

“Yes—warrantless gossip, really, or perhaps not so warrantless now, but I overheard them at dinner the other night gossiping about what a wretched Princess I am, and—”

“That was why you were so upset,” he said softly with sudden realization. She didn’t meet his eyes as she nodded slowly.

“You can’t tell anyone—no one can know.” she reiterated, feeling her anxiety heighten. “I would be… torn to shreds. More than I already am.” She looked away, feeling a lump in her throat at the thought of what might happen should this night come to light. After a moment, Link’s hand came to grab her free one, prompting her to look up.

“You don’t need to tell me what’s at stake,” he offered softly, giving her a wry smile. “You may become disgraced in the eyes of the court, but at least you’ll still have your head.”

She looked up at him, feeling both appreciative of his ready acceptance, but also a bit ill at the thought of the potential consequences for his actions. “No…” she responded quietly, “I suppose I don’t.”

She gazed at him a moment longer, feeling a mixture of emotions, before turning and continuing on up the path. She had so many thoughts warring in her mind, and just as many emotions warring in her heart. But now as not the time to dwell on either—they both needed to ensure they got away with this first. Then, she could sort through it all.

She ignored the fact that she didn’t release his hand.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

The day had been an excruciatingly long one.

He had woken not long after falling asleep, head throbbing from his hangover. He had been certain he’d dreamed everything that had happened—a wonderful, tortuous dream; that was, until he looked over at the other side of the bed. There she lay, hair spread about her head like a dark halo, kiss-swollen lips parted, the sheets only barely covering her bare breasts. He stared hard for several minutes, absently admiring her beauty, before it fully hit him.

He’d slept with the Princess of Hyrule.

At first he had hung his head despairingly between his hands. There was no way he’d get away with this. He was a dead man—DEAD. After they sealed the Calamity, he’d be sent to the gallows, or the chopping block if the King was feeling particularly vindictive. Life in prison if he was extraordinarily lucky. There was no way they’d get away with this—no way HE would get away with this.

But the panic quickly passed. He was overreacting—even if they were discovered missing, no one could prove what they’d done, and he knew Zelda would never tell; she had nearly as much to lose as he.

He quietly got out of bed so as not to disturb her and walked to the window, peeking out the curtains. It was still dark—early morning by the looks of things. If they cleaned up now and hurried back to the castle, they might be able to sneak back in before anyone awoke.

There was a chance—a strong chance. But they had to move quickly.

He moved to the wash basin and cleaned himself up, pointedly ignoring the throbbing of his head—he’d suffered far worse during trainings—and dressed in his trousers before making a hasty retreat down to the bar for some water. He returned to their room and poured her a glass, downing his own before allowing himself a moment to breathe.

He found his eyes gravitating to her slumbering form, her nude body discernible beneath the sheets. This was likely the only time in his life he’d ever be graced with such an image; it was an image he would burn into his retinas—he never wanted to forget it, to forget her.

As she shifted in her sleep, her chest arching upwards as she turned onto her side, his mind cast back to when her chest had similarly arched under his tongue, to her pants and gasps as he thrust into her with reckless abandon. He could feel his body warming, feel himself hardening at the memory. Gods, she had been… magnificent—a goddess. More than anything, she’d been so… free… He’d known her long enough now to know how she struggled against the restraints of her title, against her obligations and responsibilities. He’d seen her only a handful of times be truly joyful and carefree; and last night she’d been just that. She’d been… Zelda, just—Zelda; beautiful, alive, and passionate.

And yet, as much as he wanted to see her like that again—to maybe, possibly, Goddess willing, do this again (and again, and again…)—he couldn’t help but wonder: Was this a one-time thing? What was this to her? They had both been drunk. Had she intended for things to go this far? Would she regret it once she woke?

She shifted in bed again, and he sighed. Time was ticking, and their window of opportunity was slowly sliding closed. Pushing off the dresser, he crossed the room, settling onto the bed to wake her.

-:-:-:-

They made their way quickly back through Castle Town unmolested, and through the series of secret passageways and caves until they reached the lockup. It had been a close call with the guard—too close, and once they both made it safely inside the secret passageway, leaning and panting against the wall, he felt his adrenalin surge ease and his heart rate began to slow.

However, when he felt her searching hand come into contact with his head, he couldn’t help the urges that rose within him. In the darkness, reality felt momentarily suspended, just as his vision was was momentarily blinded, and he pulled her wrist close, mere inches from his lips as he relished in the softness of her skin and the steady thrum of her pulse beneath his fingertips.

His mind was at war. Part of him wanted to pull her close and take her all over again, here against the wall in the total darkness where touch reigned supreme. Yet his rational mind screamed at him to get moving before they lost their chance. In the end his rational mind won, and instead of bringing her wrist to his lips, he placed the lantern in her hand.

Yet despite knowing he’d done the right thing, he couldn’t help but regret it at least in part as they continued on, watching her hips gently sway as she made her way up the sloping path. By the time they reached her study it was, thankfully, still dark enough that they were able to cross the bridge to her room invisibly. It was there, before her door, that they parted with little more than a silent nod.

To avoid any passing maids or guards who might have started their rounds early, he scaled the rough outer stone wall of her chambers, running along the upper parapets until he reached his portion of the wing. Then, he scaled down the wall on a vine and kicked in his window (which, thankfully, he’d left cracked in the night), climbing through with just enough time to clean himself up and eat a hasty breakfast before heading down the hall to report for duty.

By then his hangover was beginning to fade, and he felt grateful he’d refrained from matching the additional two drinks she’d had—but it did nothing for the on-again-off-again erection which plagued him as images of that night flashed through his mind. He felt only too grateful for the coverage provided by his champions tunic. But even still, the prospect of shadowing her all day, something he’d done every day for the past nine months, suddenly felt far more daunting than anything in his life ever had.

Zelda emerged from her chamber, dressed in her formal gown, a little later than usual that morning. Her hair was back to its natural gold, with nary a trace of the die she’d used the night before; but he could see the evidence of her lingering hangover in the weariness of her features, the stiffness of her movements, and the way she subtly flinched at loud noises.

She had a full schedule for the day—morning devotionals, a meeting with her father in the afternoon, a book reading at the Castle Town orphanage in the evening… Part of him had been hoping for perhaps a quiet, private moment to talk about things; she hadn’t said what any of this meant to her or how she felt about it, and though he wasn’t sure how to approach her—or if he even should—he at least wanted an opportunity to try.

But, no.

They were constantly under the watchful eye of somebody. At the castle shrine there were priests of Hylia surrounding the statue, cleaning the carved stone dais and offering prayers. He was shunted from the meeting with her father, forced to stand outside with the King’s personal guards, though that was to be expected. Then, at the orphanage, the enthusiastic director hovered over them as she read the story of the hero of time to the enthralled young ones. Even on the ride back to the castle they were escorted by Castle Town guards, despite the Princess’ polite declination.

And through it all, somehow, she’d managed to maintain a facade of perfect calm. He hoped his own mask had held as well as hers. It hadn’t felt like it; because amidst it all, whenever she bent over, whenever she arched her back in just such a way or yawned widely, he couldn’t help but see her keening under his ministrations, couldn’t stop himself from remembering the feel of her mouth around his aching cock. It took all of his self control to keep from fidgeting and maintain a neutral facade.

At no point during the day did an opportunity to talk ever appear; and though he suspected he already knew the answer, he was still burning to know for certain, to hear the answer from her own lips: was this a one time thing? He would, of course, respect whatever answer she gave. But if he were honest with himself, he would give almost anything to be with her again… He felt like a man lost in the Gerudo desert who’d been teased with the promise of an oasis. Foolish thought it may be, he couldn’t help but hope.

When he was finally given clearance to return to his chamber after dinner, he felt only too grateful for the reprieve. The day had been excruciating, filled with silent torments and reminders of a rapture he could likely never have again. As he entered the room, he quickly shut the door behind himself and slumped against it, letting his mask finally fall and exhaling a long, slow breath.

After several quiet moments slumped against the door, he slowly stood, pulling off the master sword and the harnesses around his torso. He headed for his desk to set the equipment atop its surface, but stopped just as he reached it, noticing a large book resting on its center—a book which hadn’t been there when he’d left that morning. Approaching the tome, he draped his equipment over the chair instead and picked it up, eying the leather-bound cover curiously.

‘The History of the Jig’ was stamped in large serif font, with a smaller subtitle reading, ‘and it’s many derivative dances’. He quirked a brow, opening the cover. He had a suspicion who this was from; and there, on the inside flap, was confirmation in the form of a handwritten dedication.

“Link,  
I never got a chance to properly thank you for your actions outside the Kara Kara Bazaar. Your bravery and devotion are the only reason I am still alive. Thank you. I know your mother had been the royal dance instructor, and you recently mentioned an interest in the subject. This book is from my personal collection, and I thought it might aid you in your studies. Please take it as a token of my gratitude.  
—Zelda”

Link smiled, though couldn’t help but feel baffled by the timing of it. Why now? And why so pointedly formal? She had only learned last night about his mother. Surely she couldn’t have been planning this…

Struck by sudden suspicion, Link flipped to the table of contents and skimmed the small font for the page marking the chapter on the gavotte jig. Flipping to it, he suddenly stilled, staring at Zelda’s elegant script written in the margins faintly in pencil:

“The Fang and Bone. 10:00pm. Night of the next new moon. Erase when memorized.”

Link’s hands slacked and he dropped the book on his desk out of shock, where it landed with a thud. Heart beating, he quickly gathered his wits, flipping urgently to the page once more, desperate to verify he hadn’t just imaged what he’d read. There it was, plain as day—instructions for their next encounter. He let out a breathless laugh, a broad smile slowly spreading across his face.

Pulling out an eraser from his desk drawer, he set to destroying the only evidence of their upcoming elicit meeting. Closing the book carefully, he brought it over to his small bookcase and set it on the shelf, his finger lingering on the spine as he stared at it with a faraway smile. They hadn’t necessarily gotten a chance to talk about things, but at least he knew one thing.

It wasn’t a one-time fling.

He then turned, heading straight for his bed. The new moon was in only a few days. He could be patient, endure more days like today so long as he knew he could see her—be with her, again. But in the meantime… he landed on his bed with a thump, quickly divesting himself of his pants as he pulled his erection free of his briefs.

In the meantime, he would have much to attend to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some fun news: I’ve decided to make Anger Management part of its own series, separate from my Fade to Black smut series. Well, it’ll do kind of a venn diagram thing, so it’ll be part of the Fade to Black series while also being its own series. Basically, after their initial drunken fling, Zelda decides to carry on a longer-term affair with Link, meeting in secret at the tavern every few weeks when time and opportunity permits.
> 
> It’ll be a smut series, with each new story in the series featuring sexual acts and an emotional tone of a different theme. This will be a sort of ultimate-smut series to challenge my writing and creativity. I want to make each installment very different from the others, exploring a different aspect of sex and sexual intimacy.
> 
> And, of course, there will be a story too because if you know me at all you know I like my porn with plot. I’ve got a couple possible endings outlined, I’m just not sure which direction I want to go in yet. So stay tuned! If you enjoyed Anger Management, there will be more fun coming soon (ish).


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